The Winthrop Woman

Elizabeth said, “I don’t know, Mrs. Hutchinson why I trouble you. I had to come. Anne listened thoughtfully, “Ah, it happens that way, sometimes. If we listen to the Voice, and seek the Inner Light.” “The Inner Light,” repeated Elizabeth. “I fear I’ve never seen that. I’ve never heard God’s voice, or felt Him near. The ministers say one can’t. They say He revealed Himself once and for all in Scriptures, and that is all we can ever know of Him.” “They say that,” said Anne, “because they are blind, and still bound by Old Adam’s Covenant of Works. They will not listen when The Comforter comes into their hearts.” “I don’t understand this,” said Elizabeth sadly. “But Paul hath said it: He is the God of all comfort, Who comforteth us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them which are in any trouble wherewith we ourselves are comforted of God.” That is beautiful as you speak it,” Elizabeth said. ‘But how if God is wroth and will not send comfort?” Anne smiled, “I do not believe He is ever wroth with those who love enough, for God is Love.” “I’ve never heard say so,” cried Elizabeth, startled. “Does it say so in Scriptures? I’ve heard that He is jealous, and a consuming fire, and almighty, and our salvation, but I never heard of love.” “It is in Scripture,” said Anne gravely. The quivering anticipation in Elizabeth’s breast grew keener. It trembled, then seemed to expand like a moonflower until the petals fell wide open, and at their center was a point of golden light which streamed through her body and permeated it with joy. In all, Elizabeth saw a meaning she had never guessed, a truth so exquisite that it was near to pain. At once, the feeling began to fade. Anne said, “You have been blessed with some revelation, I think. Perhaps it was The Comforter. That is Grace.”

The pool became transparent to its golden depths, and herself was plunging in those depths and yet upraised with joy upon the rushing wind. The light grew stronger and turned white. Against the light, everything had meaning. The significance was bliss, it made a created whole of everything she watched and touched and heard—and the essence of this created whole was love. She felt love pouring from the light. The love was far off at the source of light, and yet it drenched her through. And the source and she were one. The minutes passed. The light moved softly down, and faded from the pool. The ecstasy diminished, it quietened, but in its stead came a serenity and sureness she had never known. “It’s come before but not like this,” Elizabeth whispered. Telaka listened and nodded solemnly. “All same light,” she said. “Come different ways, but from same place.”