Sweetness of light
I have always loved light. When I was a child, I would say that I wanted a light that burned at my grave continually. Then when I found Jesus, I learned that He is the light and I will go be with him immediately when I leave this mortal body.
I love a dark room when I am sleeping, but that is about the only time. When I awake in the morning, my routine is this. While I am brushing my teeth, I am opening the front door, raising the shades in the living room, dining room, and kitchen, along with turning on the lights in the hall, my bathroom, living room, kitchen, dining room, and utility room. Most times even the garage light. Well, after all, I am in all those rooms at some point before I leave for work and I don't want to walk into dark room.
No, I am not afraid of the dark. I love sitting in my swing after dark watching fire flies, the stars, the moon, the night flights of the jets, and whatever else I may see. I love the lights of the city and I especially love flying into a large city at night and seeing all the lights. I think every time I have flown into a city at night I have said the same thing, "I wish I were the lone salesperson who sold all those light bulbs."
I grew up here in Dexter, and you know, other than the downtown street lights, there are few lights at night. We would drive home from Birmingham where lights were everywhere, then when we arrived in Dexter it was so dark. I was thrilled when Rhodes opened and their lights lit up that corner. Living in the city for thirteen years where lights abound, you can only imagine how it felt to me.
When I was raising my girls, they never came home to a dark house. Lights were on and candles were lit. We have been back for twelve years and those of you who know us, know we came back because Collin had become very ill. He began going through one surgery after another and spending many long, exhausting days and weeks in hospitals from St. Louis, Cape, Poplar Bluff, Dexter, and Sikeston. Those aren't counting the emergency room runs, the air lifts and a week in Minnesota at the Mayo Clinic.
Those times were very sad for me and so many days and nights for weeks and months on end, he wasn't able to be out of bed and most of the times not even co-herent. Along with him, my father was very ill at the same time. Many nights I would just sit in the living room with my little Maltese, Tiki, and do nothing but cry. I don't think I even had any thoughts during those times. There were nights I just had to take a drive, even if it were the wee hours of the morning. Each time I went out, all the residential parts of town were so very dark. I could hardly stand that and it would make me cry even harder.
But there was one house I could always count on to have bright lights shining throughout the home and flowing out to the street. The curtains were never drawn. I always knew of the lady of that home, but was never aquatinted with her. I knew where she worked and I knew her daughter and granddaughters. She was a beautiful lady, very kind and soft spoken. I always wanted to become aquatinted with her, but for some reason just never did. On these nights out I would circle her home several times and absolutely reveled in the light that flooded from her windows It always seemed as though that light filled my very innermost being. She never knew of my driving by her home and I would always go back home with more spirit than when I left. I sometimes wonder if I would have endured those times if not for my Lord and her glowing lights.
She no longer lives in that home, and when I drive by now (nothing bad intended for the present owners) I nearly break down, for the lights no longer shine forth and I miss them so.
My heroine this week is Loyce Reed. Loyce was our beloved librarian for many years. My heartfelt thanks go out to you Loyce for unknowingly helping me through many lonely and scary nights with your lights flooding my very soul. I sometimes late at night, open my shades just in case there is another soul who needs to see lights shining brightly. You will never know how many times you were a blessing and a beacon in a storm to me.
See ya next time somewhere in a korner. kdover28@gmail.com - 573-820-2404 - www.dailystatesman.com
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