The rest of my story…

So I called Rick back on Friday night as promised.  In fact, the last thing he said to me before I left him on Tuesday was, “You’re going to call me Friday night, right?”  I assured him I would.

I called about 8 pm.  He answered, “Hey, what’s up?”

I said, “Hi, this is Pastor Bill.”

“Yeah.  What’s up.”

“Well, I promised I would call and see if you got into your new place alright.”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“She left me.  Went back home.”

I said, “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“Well, no sense crying over spilled milk.”

“Uh..OK…well, I be praying for you.”

“Thanks.”

And then he hung up.  That was it.  For a guy who needed my help so much on Tuesday, he hardly knew me on Friday.  There were lots of other voices in the background, possibly from a bar.  As much as I wanted to believe differently, I won’t see him again.

My instincts were pretty good on this one.  So I helped out, but perhaps not in the best way.  But you never know till it’s over.  I have to admit, his story and approach were pretty smooth.  Like he had done this before.  A lot.

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