The Confession
“Forgive me Father for I have sinned,” Ranell crossed himself as he intoned the confessional statement. He sat in the apse of Our Lady of Refuge with his friend, and confessor, Monsignor Raphael Mendoza.
“I’ve never seen you so upset. Josef,” Mendoza’s kind face was a mask of concern. “What’s wrong?”
Ranell tried to answer, but a sob caught in his throat. So he sat in silence while he tried to master his emotions.
Mendoza just waited, giving him the time he needed.
“It’s all falling apart.” Ranell finally managed to choke out through gritted teeth.
“What is?”
“Everything.” It felt like a dam was breaking inside him, and a wild light shone in his eyes. He leaned forward suddenly and grabbed Mendoza’s sleeve. “Everything’s falling apart! They’re seizing our assets all over the world. The whole world is going to hell! We have to pay operating costs at hyper-inflated prices, and there’s just no way to cover any of it! I’ve been up since two o’clock this morning trying to calm our shareholders down. We’re ruined, Father. Ruined!”
“Breathe.”
Ranell inhaled with a shudder, and then forced himself to exhale slowly through pursed lips. He slumped back in his chair, took another deep breath, and another.
Get control of yourself, Josef. It helped, and his breathing began returning to normal. "The one thing I wanted most was to save my employees." The words came out flat, but that was just an illusion of emotional control. Ranell chewed his lower lip, his face screwed into a grimace.
“First things first, Josef,” Mendoza’s words were soft and calming. “You are trying to carry a burden that is impossible to bear.”
“It’s my job to bear it!” Ranell cracked, lashing out at his friend. “People relied on me to make the right decisions, but I screwed up! I thought I could ignore the threats. But now I’ve got over six thousand people stepping off into the abyss because this damned President is too busy prosecuting and jailing his political opponents rather than rooting out the real spies threatening this nation!"
“So, you believe it’s the President’s fault?”
After a long pause, Ranell sighed and admitted, “No, this is my fault.” He brought his closed fist to his heart three times and said, “Confiteor.”
Mendoza shook his head slowly and wrapped an arm around Ranell’s shoulders. “Listen to me, Josef. You cannot use your will to force a different outcome than one which God has wrought.
Ranell recoiled at the thought. “But Father, what about my employees? I've failed them. I can't help thinking about how much their families will suffer."