Thoughts of loneliness filled my apprehensive mind as I sat in the dimly lit room waiting to enter. Only a shimmer of light leaked under the closed door teasing my vision. I closed my eyes and prayed quietly asking for guidance and direction during this meeting.
“Ann, Ann, come in please,” a voice from the room summoned, as the door cracked open.
“Thank you,” I responded, visibly shaking as I entered the brightly lit room.
“I believe you have something for me to review, my dear?”
“Yes sir,” I replied as my unsteady hands handed over the report.
“Let’s see, what we have here,” he said smiling, as I sat down.
The editor read in silence, savoring every word written. He grimaced at times as if in pain, and nodded with a smile at other paragraphs. Across the desk, I sat at attention with my hands folded in my lap, as beads of sweat collected on my forehead. It seemed like an eternity as my weekly report was scrutinized, until at last the red ink ceased to flow.
“Well, I must say, I do see much improvement, my dear. Especially in the third and fourth paragraphs, those entries really warmed my soul.”
“Thank you sir, I do appreciate that,” I said relieved letting out a deep sigh.
“Now, I noticed in paragraphs five through seven, there were multiple errors of a repetitive nature. Do you see the section that I am referring to?” the editor pointed to the paragraphs in question. “Is that an accurate assumption on my part?”
“Yes sir, I see. Yes, yes I did do that. I’m sorry,” I confessed lowering my head in embarrassment.
The editor walked around the desk, and sat on the edge pondering what to say next. He then lifted my chin making eye contact, and viewed my tear-streaked face. His gentle, blue eyes penetrated deep into my soul as I felt a tug at my heart.
“Ann, it is expected that you will make mistakes. All that I ask of you is to admit it, and work towards improving.
“Thank you sir, thank you. You are so kind and gentle even when I repeat the same mistakes. Oh, I so look forward to these meetings,” I said sniffing and wiping the tears from my eyes. “I feel so much better after we just talk.”
“You know, if during the week you need help; you can always call. I would love to hear from you. You know how to reach me—right?”
“I do sir. I just don’t know why I can’t remember to do that when I need help.”
“So, we will meet again next week, same time and same place, ok?” the editor concluded handing back the corrected report.
“Oh yes sir! See you next Sunday. Thank you sir,” I said bowing my head as I exited the room.
I glanced at my paper anxious to review the editor’s notes, as I walked down the steps of the building.
In the margin, in front of paragraphs three and four, the words “Well Done My Child” were jotted down.
Then, several lines below the editor boldly wrote, “Covered and Removed from Final Report,” in red ink across paragraphs five through seven.
He closed with a PS: “Have a Blessed week and keep Me in the forefront of your thoughts. Always remember that I love you, and I am here for you.”
Blessed is he, whose transgressions are forgiven, who sins are covered. Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him, and in whose spirit is no deceit. Psalm 32: 1-2.
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