The Seer

“Seeing things clearly isn’t always an advantage.”

Mary Magdalene entered The Church just before sunrise.  The stone building held the damp of night in its walls.  She moved quickly as she lit the candles, leaving a trail of light along the sides of the pews.  Before the altar, she bowed, crossed herself and went behind the pulpit to light the fire that would warm the entire building. 

She treasured this silent hour before service; before the building filled up with people and wants and needs.  It allowed her time to gather her thoughts and sort through her visions.  It took her years to learn the difference between her own thoughts and those of others; now she went to great lengths to maintain regular solitude.  It was for everyone’s benefit, really. 

Most mistook her seclusion for personal rejection.  Serving The Gift demanded isolation; how could prayerful people not understand this? 

“Self-absorbed to a fault.”  The words slipped out as her thoughts swirled around the people who were going to arrive soon.  She checked herself, shaking her head slightly.  She knew enough about human nature to understand her criticism was toward herself.  With a heavy sigh, she turned back to her task of providing light and warmth for The Church’s body.

Her reverie turned to her current vision, the one of The Truth.  It was so big she could only write a little bit before her eyes changed and her temples throbbed.  How was she going to get it all out in time?  How was she going to get it out at all?

She learned the necessity of tempering her messages -- often many times over – so the Words of Truth did not get lost in the emotion of circumstance.  Still, many people wasted time and opportunity reacting to their feelings and missing The Truth.  Still, many people shot The Messenger. 

Mary Magdalene wearied over the unfounded accusations people regularly hurled at her.  How could they not understand she loved them?  She loved them so much she risked her heart over and over again by providing them with what they said they desperately wanted:  The Truth.  Yes, it hurt…didn’t they realize it hurt her to see it?

Another heavy sigh and The Church was lit and warm.  Before leaving the sanctuary, she turned to The Cross. 

“Forgive them first, Master,” she said aloud, “and then forgive me.  We know not what we’ve done.  Or do.”.