I just finished having a conversation with one of the Arkansas State Police officers who is housed in the building where I work. He's a fantastic man with incredible stories of the many years he worked as an investigator into homicides and other awful crimes in California, and now he investigates child abuse here in Arkansas. The other girls I work with and I often leave the lunch room with wide eyes and mouths agape after hearing his wild stories.
This street-smart, well-seasoned officer just left my office after telling me about the flock of chickens that he and his wife have raised from chicks. He grinned as he talked about the one that follows him around and jumps up to sit in his hand when he lowers it near the ground. He told me they are all named after Jane Austen characters.
Most of the things I hear in my job are pretty horrible and numbing, but Bob's chickens are a good reminder to me that a soul hidden in Jesus can stay gentle no matter how much evil it witnesses.