Joe leaned back with a small smile as he spoke to Nelly, the kind of smile that comes from something pure and unexpected.
“You know, Nel… I made a new friend at the Mental Health clubhouse.”
She raised an eyebrow, curious.
“Oh yeah? Who?”
Joe laughed softly.
“A dog. His name is Jasper.”
Nelly’s eyes lit up.
“Jasper? That’s adorable.”
Joe nodded.
“Yeah, he’s this calm little soul who just walks up to you like he already knows your worries. He sits with you, no judgment, just… presence. Like he’s guarding your heart without saying a word.”
He paused, then added gently:
“And look, it’s really okay if you’re still friends with your daughter’s father. Jasper is a good name. It shows up in Revelation 4 and 21—the jasper stone around God’s throne and the foundation of the holy city.”
He touched her hand lightly.
“Names carry meaning. People carry history. I don’t want to take that away from you. If you’re friends, that’s fine. I trust you. And it makes sense—Jasper’s a name written in the scriptures themselves.”
Nelly smiled, relieved, leaning her head onto Joe’s shoulder.
Joe finished with a soft chuckle:
“Besides… my Jasper’s a dog who thinks he’s a saint. Maybe all the Jaspers of the world have a little holiness in them.”
