Things are often not as they seem. This is true even when our “reality” is confirmed to us by what we are in fact hearing or seeing. It is only when we are willing to look, listen, or think deeper that we ultimately understand many things, people, and events. This is because inner truth is often difficult to see by what we perceive or think we know or see in the outer world, or what we often call the “real” world. What is truly “real” is often far beyond what we think we already know.

This was confirmed to me by a recent personal experience. I was sitting in the warm sun enjoying lunch at a poolside table on the deck of a ship cruising through the Pacific. An older couple passed near my table and began settling in for what appeared to be a relaxing afternoon in the sun. Then I noticed something troubling. I could easily overhear what seemed like a disturbing case of male dominance and control.

The wife said to her husband, “Is it okay if I just go into the pool for a minute if you can see me the whole time?” I did not hear an audible response from her husband, but I could see his gestures and facial expressions in response to her. His reaction seemed controlling and even menacing. But the wife really wanted to cool off in the pool. She was wearing a very modest, one-piece swimsuit covered in a towel as she again asked permission to enter the pool, saying, “I’ll just be gone a minute. I only want to get in and right back out. I won’t be that long; and you’ll be able to see me from here.” It was these statements—combined with what I saw as expressions of concern and control on the husband’s face—that gripped my attention further.

Ultimately the husband finally gave his consent for his wife to take just a moment in the pool so long as he could observe her the entire time and that she would return quickly. I felt heartbroken for this poor woman who—in her 60s or 70s—had to ask her husband for permission to take a dip in the pool. I was close witness to this patriarchal abuse. But as I continued to observe closer, I noticed something else.

It was the next sentence from the wife’s mouth that completely changed my perception of what I thought was surely an abusive relationship. As the woman began to leave for the pool, she turned to her husband and said, “Don’t walk away, I’ll be right back.” And then with some concern in her voice she said, “Don’t leave this spot.”

What I thought was surely a man who controlled his wife’s every move turned out to be the exact opposite of what I believed I knew from our first-hand experience of the situation. This was not an abusive relationship at all. I was witnessing a man with failing cognitive abilities (e.g. dementia or Alzheimer’s disease) being cared for by his loving wife. She wanted to make sure he was comfortable with her leaving him for a brief moment and that he could see her the entire time and that he wouldn’t walk away from the place they had chosen. She didn’t leave him until he understood she would not be gone long and always within his sight.

This experience challenged me. It made me stop and think about a few things. I was taken from angry indignation to overwhelming compassion in seconds. What struck me most was that my change in perception had nothing to do with the facts (those did not change). The change happened simply in taking the time to pay closer attention and to reconsider what I believed I knew was the truth behind the facts. It reminded me to reserve judgment (and perhaps withhold it indefinitely) until I have taken the time and patience to truly see what might be behind the apparent facts of any situation. Easy to write. Hard to practice.

As I pondered on this experience, it reminded me of an incredibly beautiful and true story about the life and death of a Christian monk who lived on Mount Athos. I came across this story a little over a year ago and it deeply impacted me for good. In fact, it became the catalyst for a series of events that have profoundly blessed my life in unimaginable ways.

This particular monk was a menace to the parishioners on Athos because he was a drunk. Although he was supposed to be living a monastic Christian life, he would drink every day and then cause problems for the people living near the monasteries.

When the monk died, a group of Christians hurried to Elder Paisios the Athonite (he was the leading monk on Athos who was later canonized as a Saint by the Eastern Orthodox Church in 2015). The villagers were happy to tell Elder Paisios that their problem was now finally over because the menacing monk had died.

But St. Paisius already knew about the monk’s death. In fact, he told the people he knew the monk had died because he had seen the hosts of angels that had come to meet the monk’s soul at his death.

The villagers were perplexed and even became annoyed at hearing this. How could angels herald or hail the soul of such a wicked man? They then thought St. Paisios must have been unaware of the monk’s alcoholism and the problems he caused. But then Paisios told the people the following truths:

This monk was born in the Ottoman Empire just before the Armenian Holocaust began. (This genocide by the Ottoman Empire resulted in the killing of a million Christian Armenian women, children, and the infirm during World War I). The child’s parents feared their new baby would be killed if discovered with them as they reaped in the fields during the harvest. So, to prevent the precious babe from crying and being discovered, they would add some strong alcoholic drink (raki) to his milk to make him fall asleep. The baby became dependent on alcohol. As he matured, doctors advised him against starting a family because of his alcoholism. He eventually arrived at Mount Athos and became a monk.

This man confessed to an elder that he was an alcoholic. The elder instructed him to make prostrations every day, praying to God for help to gradually reduce his drinking. After a year of daily struggle and repentance, the monk managed to reduce his daily 20 drinks to 19. And the struggle continued year after year until this spiritual warfare allowed the monk to reduce his drinking to only 2-3 drinks a day, which would still cause him to be troublesome for those around him, including the villagers.

For years, people knew him as a drunkard monk, a horrible and useless troublemaker! But God saw a warrior fighting with great zeal to overcome his weakness born of a desire by his parents to keep their baby from genocide. What a cross to bear in so many ways. He was never understood and rarely loved.

What you think you know about a person may very likely be the complete opposite of the truth! Have you ever stopped to think about what may be the deeper truth behind the facts you see, especially the most horrific ones? These things have ignited in me a greater desire to extend grace, especially whenever I believe it is least deserved.

Look, listen, and think deeper. You may find gems hiding in the darkness you fear or detest the very most. You just might begin to understand.