As many of you know from my postings, I have been for the past several months working on getting out of a really lousy job and back into a position from an old industry of mine. By God's grace it seems that this delivery is on its way now. I have five companies who I have interviewed with and seem interested in me. Just in playing the odds of X out of 5, I am believing--by God's grace--one will make me an offer real soon. I would like to leave this job on my terms so a quick job offer would be the thing needed. I have relented on my wishes to God's plan and if I am to be terminated first and then get the job, so be it.
I have been a huge fan of US military Special Ops for eleven years. The SEALS, Delta Force, Rangers, etc.--I love 'em. I have countless books on each service. So being creative and love writing, I came up with this imagined scenario, combining my admiration for SpecOps and my faith. One thing though: please no replies like "Jesus and angels don't need guns." Thanks!
The stealth Black Hawk helicopter descended from the sky onto the street in front of my job building. I walked outside. On the side of the helicopter was a logo of three crosses. Several winged figures jumped out of the opened door, each caring an MP5 machine gun. They formed a perimeter arc from the back to the front of the Black Hawk. I was included in the arc. The four commandos behind me kept a steady watch on the front door and lobby of the building, wary of The Three Pains [the three superiors who have been the root of all my work woes]. A new figure emerged from the copter. He had the look of the Leader. He had flowing hair, a mustache and beard. Also sporting the same type of machine gun, I could not help but notice the nail imprints on his hands. He asked my name and when I confirmed it, he gave a confident smile. Jesus Christ, commander of Sainted Seals. We're here go get you out!"
I have been a huge fan of US military Special Ops for eleven years. The SEALS, Delta Force, Rangers, etc.--I love 'em. I have countless books on each service. So being creative and love writing, I came up with this imagined scenario, combining my admiration for SpecOps and my faith. One thing though: please no replies like "Jesus and angels don't need guns." Thanks!
The stealth Black Hawk helicopter descended from the sky onto the street in front of my job building. I walked outside. On the side of the helicopter was a logo of three crosses. Several winged figures jumped out of the opened door, each caring an MP5 machine gun. They formed a perimeter arc from the back to the front of the Black Hawk. I was included in the arc. The four commandos behind me kept a steady watch on the front door and lobby of the building, wary of The Three Pains [the three superiors who have been the root of all my work woes]. A new figure emerged from the copter. He had the look of the Leader. He had flowing hair, a mustache and beard. Also sporting the same type of machine gun, I could not help but notice the nail imprints on his hands. He asked my name and when I confirmed it, he gave a confident smile. Jesus Christ, commander of Sainted Seals. We're here go get you out!"
