In the twilight
I sat, hunched on the small concrete step which provided the only seating in the backyard of the rental house we occupied this summer. An acorn fell at my feet; the squirrel above chattered as if my presence annoyed him as much as his acorn throwing annoyed me. Crickets chirped in the background as twilight fell. The coming darkness blanketed my heart as I silently released the tears that had brimmed all day.
We were in the midst of a roller-coaster, choosing to move in the midst of the pandemic felt like the next right step for our family, but the road had proven to be longer and more difficult than we thought.
I raised my head, wiped the tears away, and watched our dogs wrestling in the corner of the yard. Then, I saw it. Only as brief as a blink, I thought I’d imagined it. But there it was again. And again. And again. The flash of fireflies. Like a personal and intimate light show, they flashed. I held my breath, willing them to continue their show. The unexpected light in the darkness flickered hope into my heart. God is here.
Before dawn
I flipped through the stack of papers piled on my desk, a deep sign escaped my lips. I’d just seen the note I’d written with the information I needed, but somehow it had disappeared. As small as it was, the lost paper seemed to be the final break in the fraying string with which I was holding myself together. The walls of our makeshift office/storage closet began to close in on me. I closed my computer with slightly too much force and leaned back. I covered my face with my hands. Frustration closed in around me.
The time I’d set aside early this morning, before the hall filled with students and while my boy practiced football, was slipping away and the day’s to-do list was long. The struggle of the season sat heavy on my shoulders. I slipped my mask back on, headed down the hall to refill my coffee mug and whispered a prayer inviting God into this day.
My phone dinged with a kind message from a friend. “You’ve been on my mind and I’m thinking of and praying for you this morning.”
A firefly in the darkness. A friend in the struggle. God is here.
In the sunset
I finished the dishes as the sun began to set and checked with my guys, would either like to join me on a walk this evening? They’d made plans to start a movie. I headed out the door solo.
Closing the door behind me, the beauty of the sky stopped my steps. I stood on the concrete step, just outside our front door. The blues in the sky were quickly darkening. The oranges and purples of the sunset created backlight for the trees. My steps fell into rhythm and, as is my custom when I’m walking alone, my thoughts shifted to prayers. Thankfulness.
Our season of waiting has come to a close; we are in our new house. A project is complete and released into the world. Our lives are settling into routine. In the midst of continued pandemic, of unrest, of sadness, the seasons continue to pass. I round the corner of the path and freeze. Could it be? This late in the season? Yet, there it was again. The unmistakable flash of fireflies against the shadowy foliage lining the path. Unmistakable peace fills my soul. God is here.
Fireflies are funny creatures, aren’t they, flashing lights from their hineys at twilight? Without the work they do in darkness, though they’d simply be plain little bugs. The darkness surrounding them highlights the greatness God created within them. Thank you, to the fireflies in my life, who flash their light in the midst of my darkness. You consistently light my path and remind me I have Light within me to.
“Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.”
Psalm 139:12
Where are you seeing flashes of Light these days?
May Mercy and Grace Fall Upon You – Bethany
You are a firefly in my life. Love you!
❤️. Xoxo