I walked into the Ranger’s Arrow Inn and sat down next to the fire like I usually do. The place was half full – lots of regulars were there that I had seen before. I was waiting patiently for someone to come and get my order, when all of a sudden I jumped out of my seat. There was a woman sitting in the chair next to me. How she got there I had no clue. I tried to calm myself and I sat back down.
“How are you doing today?” she asked me with a sweet voice.
“I’m doing fine, and you?”
“No really, how are you doing?” This time her voice sounded sweet and sincere.
I sat there for a moment wondering who this was and what I should say. How much of my life do I show to a stranger? “Really, I’m doing fine.”
She looked at me and I could see a sadness in her eyes. There was something about her that kept me looking at her. Her skin was perfect. Her nose just the right size. Her ears were small and covered by her long flowing locks. But her eyes held me.
She said, “How is your mother?” A tear rolled down her cheek,
I sat there, hardly breathing, my mind was racing. Who was this woman, and how did she know about my mother? My heart was telling me to trust her, but my mind was telling me to run. I sat there, unable to move. A tear rolled down my cheek.
“How are you doing today?” she asked again, but this time her voice was firm, yet gracious. My mind felt compelled to answer, but my heart already felt comforted by the fact she seemed to really care how I was doing.
“I feel like a failure. I feel lost.” I paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “How do you know about my mother, and why do you care about how I’m doing?”
The woman smiled at me and reached out one of her hands towards me. When I didn’t take it, she rested it on the table. “I know many things, and the one who sent me knows all things. I know that you need to know that someone cares, and I know that you are not a failure or lost.”
I don’t know how long I sat there in silence.
“How?” was all I said as I looked at a stain on the table cloth.
She smiled. “A good first question. I have seen your mother’s plight. I heard her crying in the dark. I saw that you tried to help, but distances and time were against you. I have seen you tossing and turning at night.”
I looked up at her, and her eyes caught me again.
“No, I haven’t been peering in your window at night, but I have seen into your heart. I know you wanted to go to her when you first heard the news, but you have commitments here as well. I know it has been tearing you apart.”
She lifted her hand and held it out to me again. “Take it.”
I looked at her hand, held there in front of me. I started to move my hand, but then hesitated.
“Take it. I will not harm you. I am here to restore you.”
Her words were so soft, yet carried so much force. She spoke like she expected me to act. I fought with myself, struggling with the decision of whether to do as she asked, or to run. Then I heard this small voice telling me to trust her, and I felt a peace come over me.
I reached out my hand and took her’s. Her skin was soft and smooth – perfect like every other part of her. It felt right to be holding her hand, but at the same time wrong. She held my hand tenderly, but forcefully – like a father holding the hand of his child in a crowded marketplace. I could feel the power within her.
Sitting at that table, holding the hand of a women I didn’t know, but who seemed to know me, I didn’t know what to think. I had made a vow to refrain from physical contact with women, but here I was.
She broke my train of thought. “You have not broken your vow. Your vow is to refrain from sharing physical pleasures. There is nothing wrong with sharing Godly compassion.”
“But how can I do one without stumbling into the other?”
She squeezed my hand. “By knowing the difference, and desiring the better.”
I pondered her words and felt a strength from her presence – from her touch. My heart began to lighten.
“How can you restore me? What do I need to be restored to?”
“Another good question. You have heard that your mother has became ill, that she may already be dead. You thought to go to her, but you were needed here. You thought you might be able to reach her in time – that you might have been able to save her.”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t go, and so you healed many people here. Now you feel like a failure even though you know that God has been using you here.”
“Yes.”
“What is God’s domain?”
I looked up towards the ceiling. “Heaven.” She waited for me to continue. “and all of creation.” I looked back into her eyes.
“And your mother’s life?”
“Yes. And my mother’s life.”
“Is God supreme?”
“Yes”
“Over your mother’s life?”
I tried to say yes, but the words got caught.
“If God chose to call her home, would that be his right?”
“Yes, but …”
“Who is supreme?”
“God is.”
“Yet you punish yourself for staying here and doing God’s work.”
“I …”
“God is proud of you for obeying. He want’s you to have peace in his plans.”
I nodded.
“Do you accept that God is in control?”
“Yes, I do.” As I said those words a peace flowed over me – a peace that only comes from feeling God’s presence.
“Hi, are you Hector?” The voice came from behind me. I turned and looked. A man stood there wearing traveling cloths. He looked cold and tired.
“Yes, I am.”
“Good, I have news from your mother.”
“Please, come sit with my friend and me.” I motioned to a chair.
My eyes followed him as he walked around me to the table. I noticed with a start that the beautiful young woman I had been talking to was gone. I quickly looked around, but she was no where in sight. The man sat down beside me.
“I don’t have much news, but your mother wanted me to tell you that she is doing much better, and that she is very proud of you. She also said that she thought she would be coming to visit you this spring.”
I don’t know what came over me, but I leaned over and gave him a big hug. He was a bit startled. The man didn’t have any more news of my mother for me, but I bought him dinner and we talked for hours about nothing.
That night I had given my mother to God, and he had given her back. More than that, however, he let me see a little more of who he is, and let me feel his presence.
