I Will Persist

My publisher called me into her office today.

I grabbed my notepad and a pen. Then I rushed to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water because my throat was dry.

I sat down cautiously in the chair in front of her desk and exhaled, waiting for her to get off of the phone.

“I want to talk to you about how much you’re struggling with your writing,” she said and looked down at her notes.

STAB!

I gulped.

“I don’t understand. The first story you turned in was very tight. Almost perfect. And then the last few have needed lots of editing. I feel as though you’re a brand new reporter fresh out of school and I have to teach you everything all over again. Is it that you don’t have any experience as a reporter?”

Gulp.

“I have no staff experience as a reporter. And I haven’t done news writing since college,” I began.

“But after reading your first story, I thought that you would come in and knock all of this out.”

“Me too! I wouldn’t have been so confident in my first interviews if I didn’t believe I could. I just…” I let my voice trail off as I looked at the blank sheet of my open notebook. “I think I’m nervous.”

She looked at me. Her countenance was more like a person trying to figure out where the pieces of a puzzle go.

“Let’s look at your samples,” she said as she typed in the address to my online portfolio.

“Ok,” she continued. “Where are the samples that you wrote for the Miami Herald?”

I showed her where they were and she skimmed my stories.

“Ohhh..I see. These must have been heavily edited.”

“No, they weren’t. There was actually no editing at all,” I said and shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve never really been edited before. This whole thing is new to me and it’s kinda disheartening because I want to do a good job.”

“No editing at all?”

“None. No one has ever said anything critical about my writing before. I don’t know…”

“Hmmm…” she said as she read further. “I think it must be that…you seem to pour out your heart in your writing. You put your soul into the stories you write about people. It’s as though you care about the subjects. But that’s not news. If you want to move on to the New York Times or the Washington Post, you’re going to have to do better than this.”

STAB!

I thought I was going to die.

The superconfident, super beautiful, superstar that I usually am shrank away in a matter of moments. It’s just…when I’m around her, I can’t think. I think she intimidates me when she’s not an intimidating woman at all. She doesn’t yell or say negative things. She doesn’t bath mouth people or even come across as a tyrant. I don’t know why I feel so small when I’m around her.

When she asks me questions about my stories my brain freezes. I can’t even come up with decent cutlines when she asks me for them.

“I guess…” she began.

“Oh Lord,” I muttered.

“I guess we’re going to have to position you for success. I want to utilize your skills, but I also want you to be versatile enough that if I need you to write a news story you can. I think with the new design we’re planning to add Entertainment. Maybe that’s where you should be. I may have to put you in a different section.”

Huh? She’s not firing me because I’m having problems? What’s happening here?

“Maybe the internet development piece is where you need to be.”

My eyes lit up.

“I am LOVING planning the website!” I shrieked. I am! My other project at work is to develop a website to complement her newspaper. The website will target ages 21-35 and I get to make it into whatever I want it to be. You KNOW I love the internet and I dream of one day managing an online magazine, which is what my project is turning out to be.

“I’d still like to get better at the news writing though,” I told her.

“You will. Now I want you to write me an essay answering the following questions: What can you bring to our paper? What skills do you have that would make this organization run better? What do you need from me in order to make your time here more successful? What role do you see yourself playing in the development of this paper? What areas do you need to improve?”

I jotted all of the questions down and she excused me.

I went back to my office and closed the door, relieved.

I glanced at my tackboard. I WILL PERSIST UNTIL I SUCCEED. The note I had typed up and tacked to the wall stared back at me.

I will!

Earlier that morning I had a heavy heart. I’m trying so hard to work on forgiving people and I’ve reached out to those who I have been harboring anger against and talked with them about it and blessed them. I don’t want anything standing in the way of my divine destiny. I don’t want any negative junk clogging up my supply of blessings.

So I did something that I had been putting off for a week. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t used in a long time.

“Hello,” he said, surprised to hear from me.

“Hey…How are you?” I asked him.

“I’m GREAT! How are you?” he asked, obviously excited to hear from me.

I rolled my eyes. It was Young CEO. Remember the guy who told me all these tales about me moving to Houston and how he would teach me so much, blah blah blah…

I had been angry with him ever since he didn’t live up to his word. I have been so angry that even when he calls to say Hi, I won’t even answer the phone. I was pissed!

I decided that his punishment would be- he never gets to be my friend.

Yeah..that’s the worst I can do.

“Well,” I began and then paused. I didn’t want to talk to him at all. “I just want to say that even though things didn’t work out with us working together, I’m glad you led me here because I have found a place of blessing and I’m glad I came.”

“You are?!” he asked incredulously. “I’m so happy to hear that! I tried calling you. Look…when can we meet for lunch?”

I gulped. Ughhh…

“How about today?”

“Today? Yeah… How about 11:30?”

“Ok, meet me at the Restaurant.” I told him, referring to the spot where I used to work.

“Sure, that’s close to my office.”

“See you then.”

I hung up and I felt this weight lifted.

He seemed so genuinely excited to hear from me that I felt guilty about all the negative thoughts I had about him. You know..in the end, it was not God’s will for me to work with him in a full time capacity. Maybe God can still use him to teach me some things. Maybe we can be friends.

At 11:15 I gathered my things and drove down to the corner of Alabama and Travis. I parked my car across the street and walked slowly to the front of the building. When a big cuddly teddybear of a man approached me, I knew that it was Young CEO.

“Aww…Give me a hug!” he said. I laughed and gave him one and we both turned to walk inside. “I’m so glad you called me! I’ve been smiling all morning!” he said.

Everything was still the same at the Restaurant. Hell, I don’t even work there anymore so I can tell you it’s name. I used to work at the world famous, Breakfast Klub. It is owned by an amazing team of brothers and the front man is Marcus Davis. His lovely wife, who looks a lot like me by the way, was standing there to greet us as we walked in.

I gave her a hug and said Hi to all of the other workers that I recognized. It felt so good to be back there. Even though the physical labor killed me. I will always be grateful that they gave me a chance and allowed me my first introduction to Houston.

We ordered our food (he had the catfish and grits while I had an order of french toast and wings)and sat down to wait for our plates. While we waited, he looked across at me with this expression that I can’t even describe.

“I thought this day would never come. I think about you all the time. I have to. I mean…the article you wrote about me is on my wall. I blew it up and everytime I go to my desk I walk by the article and I see your name. I feel so bad whenever I see it. Look. I’ve never met anyone like you before. You did an amazing thing to move all the way to Houston just to learn so you could start your own business. I have to admit, I was stunned when you actually showed up. I didn’t know how to support you. I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do. I’m sorry. I really am. I know you were pissed and all but…I promise, I promise to make it up to you. Let’s be friends, ok?”

I laughed at him.

“Shut up. It’s cool. I’m doing just fine. I get my first paycheck tomorrow and I’m going to get a nice massage to celebrate.”

I caught him up on the rest of my trip and he asked if I had made any friends yet.

“Nope.”

“Not one?”

“None. I’ve met some people but they didn’t turn out to be anything like the kind of people I need in my life. I pretty much just go to work and then go home and write on my blog and go to sleep. Last week I decided that I like Houston because…if I don’t envision myself liking this city, then I know I won’t. But until I get me some friends or a nice CEO I’m actually pretty lonely. And..I miss my boys.”

“Do you have a pictures of them?”

I pulled out my picture to show him. His eyes softened.

“I’m gonna make sure you’re okay,” he said.

I smirked. “You said that last time!” I teased him.

He blushed. “I know. But I mean it this time. I meant it then, but I really mean it now.”

“Well, I have to go back to work now. I’m glad we had this chance to talk.”

“Me too! I really missed talking to you. There’s something about you. You shine so much!”

I smirked. “You’re married,” I teased him. “Don’t be falling in love with me.”

He laughed. “I’ll try not to.”

We walked outside and I fished a business card out of my bag and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” he asked as he read it. “Share My Dream? What’s that?”

“That is the name of the non profit I’m going to start,” I said with a big smile. “I came here for a reason. I haven’t forgotten it.”

He reached out and gave me a hug.

“Don’t be a stranger, ok?” he called out to my retreating figure.

“Ok,” I said and looked back at him.

“You promise?” he asked.

“I promise. Dang! Leave me alone boy. We’re cool,” I said in a playful tone, just like we used to talk to each other.

Young CEO has been introduced back into my life.

I’ve forgiven him and I feel so much better.

It turns out that holding a grudge is a lot more difficult than forgiving someone.

There is peace in forgiveness.