I remember how the office smelled. I remember the rough feel of the table under my hands and the tears stinging my eyes. I remember exactly what his voice sounded like -- gentle, soothing, pleading, and full of a passion I did not understand. “I can’t”, I whispered. “You can.” “It’s not that easy. You don’t understand.” “Do you believe that God can forgive you?” “Yes . . . but . . .” “When God forgives you, He separates your sin as far from you as the east is from the west. That’s a straight…
