She made a great first impression when she entered the cafe on the day we met. She was unusually poised and winsome, speaking kindly to everyone around the table. As I listened, I realized that she was probably about my age, that she lived nearby, that we had some common interests, and that I had lived in her home country in Asia. I also realized she did Tarot card readings. I told my husband about her that evening, explaining that I wanted to get her number, but there was no good opportunity.
The second time I ran into her was at a dinner for a mutual friend. She sat at the opposite end of the table, and we didn't get to chat much. When she did talk to us, her inquiries again were kind and thoughtful. That was the evening when I saw into her eyes for the first time, and then I knew for sure that I must talk with her further. Outside after the dinner, I made excuses to get her contact info, and a month or two later we finally worked out a time for her to come over.
The third time I saw her was at our table, where we ate lentil sloppy joes and she asked many polite questions. She listened to our whole love story, pressing for more details, and she complimented me on my simple vegetarian cooking. The conversation was mostly about us—she is a journalist and has many queries. But when my husband went to the bathroom after supper, she told me a bit of her own story...some of what hid behind her eyes.
In the months that have followed, I was often blessed by her gracious ways. When I was sick, she brought home-cooked supper to us. When I wanted to learn German, she studied at the same time so that we could both make progress together. When I told her that we ate soup and read the good Book at our house every Wednesday, she started to join us if it didn't fall on the same day as Full Moon or New Moon or a meditation class. She did more kind and thoughtful things for me than almost anyone in our fellowship did. She was more open to talk about spiritual things than many Christians I have met. She was quick to help with any need. But
there was that darkness in her eyes.
Now and then, there was a mention of dark forms in the night. Of channeling energy across the ocean. Of finding out what happened in past lives. Of moon worship and fasting. And even when there was no mention of these things, the windows to her soul revealed the treacherous undertow of darkness drawing her.
What looks like bright light is too often simply a devilishly-disguised deep darkness. But how much can we say, or should we say to our friends? Some say the Light will shine just from our actions alone, but I think Light needs to be explained in words, too. If actions were enough, the Son's arrival would not have been preceded by years and years of words. And if words were enough, the Father would not have sent the Son in the flesh. Somehow we must balance the words and the deeds that show us to be children of Light in this deep darkness. For the wisdom to do this, I bow my knees before the Father of Lights.
The Light Himself said,
The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!Tonight as the night gathers around our house, her eyes are still dark. I claim daybreak for her. I claim enlightened, opened eyes for her. I claim light for her. I invited her over because of her eyes and still I pray for her eyes: that they would be healthy, and her whole body full of light. Pray with me?