The first time I remember ever paying attention to the word epiphany was in a remarkably apt place to do it. My mother had paid substantially more for my fall senior semester at Furman so that I, an English major, could study in London and Stratford.
The professor who led these trips was Willard Pate, a great mentor. We'd come across the word epiphany in something we were reading early in our six week stay in London. She said, "The next time you cross the Thames' footbridge, remember to stop. Turn around. Look back. Maybe you'll have your own epiphany."
That very night a few of us were going to a piano concert across the Thames at the Royal Festival Hall. We took the footbridge. We remembered. We paused. Turned around to see Whitehall and Westminster lit up at night, the iconic images sparkling, floating on the big river below.
It made my breath catch. Just seeing the beauty, being at least a little aware of how much water had flowed under this bridge, along these banks, metaphorically, across the centuries. My soul seemed to grow--it had to grow in order to make room for the shear wonder of it all.
Then I caught an image of Mom in my mind's eye. I remembered the conversation we'd had about the trip. It was only a year after my dad died of a heart attack. I had said something about the England trip being a big deal for some of the students--but that I knew it cost too much. I was also thinking she might not relish living by herself quite yet. She'd said simply, "Don't be silly. Go. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity. I'll be fine"
This memory came with a surge of gratitude--I was suddenly experiencing my mom's willingness to bless me. Up till then I hadn't exactly perceived what a rich blessing it was. Then suddenly I was as rich in gratitude as she had been in generosity.
Dr. Pate was right. I was getting a taste of epiphany.
We are in the season of Epiphany now and for the next 6 weeks. The great invitation to the season is Jesus's profound invitation, "Come and See!"
How many ways are there to say yes?
