Monday’s child is fair of face. The youngest child is free-spirited, manipulative and outgoing. Virgo serves others, strives for perfection and works for the greater good. A gentle, sensitive artist born in the year of the sheep is prone to wander. Sound like me?
Prophets and angels predicted the future in the old testament. Saul sought a medium to talk to the deceased Samuel (1 Samuel 28) And magi from the East followed the star to a newborn king (Matthew 2:1-12).
Astrology, zodiac, tea leaves, palm reading, Tarot cards… Are they Sorcery or prophecy? Are their predictions from God or Satan? Am I risking eternal shame and damnation for reading my horoscope? Do the angels weep or laugh when I read Mother Goose’s Monday’s Child? Am I fair of face?
What exactly does it mean to be fair faced? My fussy year of the sheep, “need to be right” Virgo personality characteristics wonder or do they wander? I’m not really sure. I’m definitely out of my expertise.
I haven’t had much luck with fortune tellers. A friend convinced me to seek the knowledge of a tarot reader at a local café – just for fun!
My friend went first. While I waited for our dinner she met with the reader. She was gone forever. Our food arrived. I wondered if I should start eating without her. I didn’t want to be rude but it would be my turn as soon as she got back so I nibbled a bit.
She returned all lit up with pages of notes. I didn’t know she had a notebook in her purse. I didn’t have a notebook. How was I going to remember everything the reader told me? I felt so unprepared.
The reader told her things that happened in her past, described her to a T, knew all about her children and gave her insights about her future career, love, finances etc… That was all she said before the waiter came to get me.
I heard a familiar voice telling me I didn’t need all that. I grabbed the paper place mat and took off challenging the voice to join me. I fell into the booth, paid her my fortune and waited to hear her prophecy.
We exchanged small talk as she shuffled, dealt and sorted her (my) cards. We became quiet as she sorted, sorted, sorted and resorted the cards. Her brow wrinkled. I pulled a pen out of my purse, smoothed the place mat, watched her hands, looked at her face, studied the cards, tried to figure out the system while I anxiously awaited her wisdom.
She asked if I knew someone with dark hair. Of course I knew people with dark hair. Everyone knows people with dark hair. As she continued to slide the cards around she said everything seemed centered around meeting someone with dark hair. Someone with dark hair was going to be very important to me and my future. And this person with dark hair was making it very difficult to see anything else because it was all about this person with dark hair.
I asked her to be a bit more specific and she hesitated but finally said it was a man. Nodding and making eye contact to make sure I knew that she was definitely almost confident of the sex of this mystery person.
Really? A man with dark hair?
Well I admit, I lost my good Christian composer (composure lol). I was jealous! My friend had pages of notes and all I had was a “man with dark hair!” Work? Love? Nothing! And she seemed very anxious to get rid of me. Advising me that I needed to work things out with the man with dark hair before we could go any further.
Really? How can I work something out with someone I wasn’t even sure I knew?
I’m not a tarot card reader but I recognized the ‘death’ card so I picked it up, told her I knew it was the sign for death, pointed to the grim reaper and challenged her to explain what it had to do with me.
She reassured me that it doesn’t always mean death. It sometimes represents loss.
Yeah! The loss of my hard earned money!
And once again urged me to work my issues out with the dark haired man in the cards.
The waiter magically reappeared and ushered me back to my table.
Sheep and Virgo hate conflict so I reluctantly schlepped back to my glowing friend.
And I’m pretty sure I heard the soft chuckle of that familiar voice.
I’ve had several glowing friends tell me their inspiring spiritual encounters with psychic healers. I smile and nod. I don’t know if God communicates through these people. Who am I to limit our Lord’s ability to communicate?
I’m still working things out with the dark hair guy. So I’m pretty sure if someone asked to read my palm, I wouldn’t refuse, I wouldn’t pay and I wouldn’t be surprised when they accuse me of having my life line surgically altered to be all about who? The man with dark hair!