The Big Office at the End of the Hall

There were three other students waiting as I arrived at the school principal’s office door. All of them had the look of convicted dread on their faces as they anticipated the punishment for the wrongs they had committed. I took my place in line.

The first kid entered the door as summoned by the secretary. Muffled voices vibrated through the door as discussions proceeded from within the closed room. Then the door opened as the weeping visitor was released into the custody of a teacher to face retribution. How bad could it be? Hanging, electrocution, or firing squad were concepts that rattled through my young mind as the line got shorter. I thought to myself, Why is this line moving so quickly?

As I stood just outside the door with my knees knocking and palms sweating, I realized the blame for this predicament lay on my shoulders. The rules had been stated clearly, but I had overlooked those restrictions, causing the infraction that led to this moment. I was simply guilty.

The door opened, and I was ushered into the large office, the adults using the title “Mister” associated with my last name (when you are a kid in grammar school or grade school, this is never a good sign). Directed to a chair facing the enormous wooden desk, I quickly sat. The principal’s leather chair faced the bay window beyond the desk. The room’s occupant was portentously present.

Drowning in personal guilt, my monologue began in earnest. Confession after confession came showering into the room, including the time we tried to hang the cat and the time I fed my younger brother mud. The abundance of explanation, regret, and owning up of responsibility overwhelmed the principal to the point where he had to demand a break in my rant so that he could wedge a word into this one-sided conversation.

The flood stopped and then there was silence. A moment passed slowly, quietly. The judge was about to render his sentence. I began squinching my eyes in anticipation. The words came at a calculated pace.

The principal stated that he was aware of my wrong but realized that I was repentant. He explained that he knew my action was not in line with the usual character that he had observed in me during my time in school. He had arrived at the conclusion that it was an exception, a misstep, rather than an avenue of bad conduct that I was embarking on. Then, he gave me a gift: mercy.

The example of the tax collector in Luke 18:13–14 comes to mind as I recount this ordeal. This man’s guilt weighed so heavily on his mind that he could not even look up toward his God. He realized his sin and could only hope for mercy. He pleaded with simple words that showed his attitude. Christ explained to His disciples that God would be merciful to this man.

Since this episode in my life, I have frequently questioned myself about the wrongs that I have committed. Am I repentant, as I was that day? Do I honestly confess to our great God and plead for His mercy? Am I known by my Creator for not practicing the character of a sinner?

These questions help to center and ground my life on the way that will please the Eternal One whose “office” fills heaven and earth.

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Do you find yourself wrestling with guilt and wondering what it means to repent and turn your life around? You can find the answers to these questions and more in the Holy Bible—truths that you may never have heard explained anywhere else. You can start learning today by ordering the free study guides Twelve Keys to Answered Prayer and John 3:16: Hidden Truths of the Golden Verse.