I am in a room. Pieces of paper are swirling around me.
As they blow around the room and around my head, I try to catch a glimpse of what’s written. I can’t make out exactly what’s written but each piece is covered with black ink.
The swirl slowed and the papers begin organizing themselves neatly into office storage boxes around the room.
I lifted the lid from one of the boxes and peered in. These papers made up a record of all of my transgressions.
Embarrassed by the multitude of sins, catalogued and filed away, I took the first two sheets on the top layer and flipped them over to cover the rest.
I grabbed the top two pages and flipped them back over. They were blank. I dug into the box further. Each sheet, previously filled with text, was now blank. I searched another box. They were blank too.
The record of transgressions was gone. Erased completely. Each and every sheet was now white, blank, clean.
In the midst of my battle with addiction and temptation one night either on or near Easter 2018, I experienced the above sequence of events. I wrote it down on April 1, 2018. Call it a dream. Call it a vision. Whatever it was, the affirmation of faith remains the same to me.
Father, thank you for cleaning all my sheets. Fight for me and teach me to be ready when it’s my turn for battle. Amen.