Marcia N. Lynch

NONFICTION

The First Lance

The first glance, the first lance to my heart, happened at the airport. Two lovers were about to be separated as she prepared to board a flight. As I chanced to walk behind her beloved, she gave him one last look of longing adoration, and I was caught in the crosshairs of their love. Her look of love pierced my heart as if I were the object of her devotion. I was hit by the ricochet of their passion.

The second glance was on a dark Halloween night. My husband and I were driving into our neighborhood. A police car was parked at the end of the driveway of one of our neighbors. This family had two red-haired teenagers who were known for getting into trouble. We referred to them as “the red-haired boys.” When a cherry bomb was put in our mailbox, we assumed it was the work of the red-haired boys. As our car drove beside the police vehicle, the officer was getting out of his seat slowly, as if he were weighted down with a heavy burden. Thinking we might be pulling into that driveway, he looked at me, and I saw it clearly. Death. One of the boys had died, and he was tasked with delivering the awful news. I knew before his mother knew. Her son had died in a car accident that night.

If those two looks could be combined into one piercing glance it would be on a night thousands of years ago. The echo of Peter’s denial, the discordant cockerel’s cry, and the bonfire flames twisted together to forge the lance that pierced His heart. “I don’t know the man. Look, I don’t even know what you’re talking about! I’m not a follower of his. I’m not a Christian.” The flames eagerly devoured his declaration, but Peter turned and caught the look of Jesus. The wrenching pull of lovers being separated. The declaration of death.

“And immediately while he was still speaking the rooster crowed. And the LORD turned and looked at Peter … and he went out and wept bitterly.”
— Luke 22: 60–62 (ESV)

Marcia N. Lynch is a former children’s film editor. She studied sculpture at Mount Holyoke College and surrendered her life to Jesus in 1975. She lives in Arlington, Virginia with her husband of 39 years. She has three grown children and enjoys designing and knitting items inspired by the patterns and colors found in God’s creation.

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Image: Peter’s denial by Robert Leinweber, public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.