I've been thinking about the persistence of light. Maybe it's the days getting longer as springtime approaches. Maybe it's the fact that the black-out drapes in my son's room can never completely block the sun from peeking through during his naptime. Somehow, with stunning insistence, light breaks through darkness.
We've created a new tradition during our Light Collective planning meetings--we begin each Zoom call with the question, "Where are you finding light?" Although a more accurate phrasing might be, "Where has light found you?" Let's be honest--some days feel heavy, and light may seem in short supply, like patches of joy along stretches of sorrow. And yet, even in the darkest of circumstances, even if it's the tiniest flicker of a smoldering wick, light somehow continues to find us.
As we do what we can to notice the light as it breaks through, and make space for those gathered lights to shine in this community, I want to offer this blessing, inspired by Jan Richardson, who writes the most honest and heart-wrenching blessings about grief and loss, life and death, hope and suffering. Just a few words to express my gratitude for the persistence of light.
This is a blessing for the light that finds us, in all its forms, even in the heaviest darkness.
Like an old flashlight, fumblingly found at the back of a drawer, we bless the light that brings a hint of relief in crisis.
Like a bonfire on a sunset beach, we bless the light that welcomes friend and stranger, providing warmth, and a reason to gather, and something to see and somewhere to sit when there’s not much to say.
Like a flickering candle, lit to remember love lost, we bless the light that illuminates the sacredness of suffering and sorrow.
Like a summertime sparkler, whose gleam is passed from one giggling child to the next, we bless the light that is shared with gleeful and glittering generosity.
Like a flashbulb of a camera, we bless the light that captures precious moments of memory making that will be cherished for years to come.
Like stadium floodlights on a Texas Friday, we bless the light that creates an arena where champions are celebrated with rousing applause.
Like a trusty old desk lamp, we bless the light that puts in the hours, illuminating the diligent preparation that is needed for the work ahead.
Like the full moon, we bless the light that reflects a source that is stronger than our own, incandescent in an otherwise terrifyingly dark sky. Though sunny midafternoons have their appeal, we bless the complicated and mysterious dance of darkness and moonlight.
And finally, like the dawn, we bless the light that is faithful. May we show up, and show up again, day after day after day with a trustworthy and reliable rhythm.
And as we wait for the light to find us again, and again, and again, may we find a hand to hold, reminding us we never wait alone.
May the light inside of me recognize the light inside of you, and may we make a brighter way, together.
So...where is the light finding you?