Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God
This simple, yet at times incomprehensible, Bible verse is the sole purpose for why I am writing my You’re Far Too Kind series. Every night, around this hour, I will express my gratitude for the individual (who will remain anonymous), and specify the reasons why I am thankful that he or she is, or was, in my life.
Summer of 2012
I entered your office with spirits of hopelessness, uninvited like an annoying tagalong. That was me, a soldier on the edge of a diving board elevated over a whirlpool of insecurity, incompetency and beat-less dreams.
My grade point average was handcuffed to a past of heartbreaks and hedonism. My ambition to someday write for the National Football League was dwindling faster than the embers of a dying campfire in the middle of winter. Promises to graduate in 2010 were overdue; the once audible, vivacious cheering markedly grew faint from the stands. I was losing the game. My parents were losing their voices.
I asked you to reassess my outlook. How many more semesters? Am I to officially quit school?
You reviewed my transcript, a palette of hideous colors no painter at any level would dare attempt to hold in their left palm. But you did. You logged into your eServices and pulled up your records. Your annals were a carbon copy of mine.
“Daniel, you can do it too.”
Really? You are transparent, incisive and inspirational.
“I was in college for seven years.”
Sharing with me these documents with the sparking my ambition by allowing me to review your struggles (possibly worse than mine), during your formative years at VCU. After three years of falling victim to complacency, you capped off your undergraduate studies with a 4.0 GPA for eight consecutive semesters. You pitched to me that unchaining myself from laziness would require courage and ambition. Courage to combat the distractions, ambition to keep me hungry.
Walk-ins were welcome. Thank you.