Van Gogh said it best...
On Saturday morning, as I crawled out of bed,I thought of the challenges that lay before me. I thought of the end and a new beginning and I lit a candle. I kneeled down beside my bed and simply bowed my head. And although I am not Catholic, I prayed for the strength that a flame can bring. I prayed for healing and forgiveness and peace. I prayed that God would guide, protect and mend a broken heart. I prayed. At some point, my mother reminded me: Do not blow out the candle. Let its flame burn until it can burn no more. And so I have. Tonight, in its last hours I am reminded. Sometimes you are surrounded by such darkness that light seems unimaginable. Sometimes the flame is so waning and weak you forget its presence. You walk away from it, neglect its luster, because it seems too small. But there are times, in this life, things burn so brightly you are blinded. The smile of another, the laugh of a child, the love of a friend. The smell of garlic or a glass of wine. Most times, if we really see, light is all around us. We are surrounded by a swirl of light and life and love.
This light makes me thankful for each and every moment. For times lost, for things unsaid and for a brand new dawn.
THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE. I'M.GOING.TO.LET.IT.SHINE.
I HEART GALVESTON
Last night I text messaged my mom and told her "one year ago you were here when I needed you most."
She wrote me back "I will ALWAYS be here for you."
I can't imagine that in 32 years I will still have these struggles with my children. That I will still have to fear a quivering voice on the other end of the phone.
Van Gogh said—“It takes the shadows to bring forth the light”.
I am including excerpts from two blogs, two hearts, two souls who have taught me so much about being a mother, a friend, and a live-er of this great big thing called “life.”
When I saw said candle in front of my computer that morning I wondered why it had been moved there. After reading Embrace the Grace…I knew. The burned out candle made me sad because I knew what it represented. But reading the blog made me feel better. Her sadness was bearable because it was something she was able to treasure even though it was painful.
As a mother, we are only as a happy as our saddest child. As a person older and wiser, we realize that all the sad moments are really the catalyst that make the happy ones happy. Without the contrast we would have nothing to strive toward.
And I also recently realized that because your little girl is 30, her hurts and sorrows are not something that belong to her…oh no…they belong to you perhaps even more. The sorrows are bittersweet as you watch her grow beyond them and the happy moments are victories more powerful than any of your own.
As I sing “this little light of mine” to my precious little grand daughter…it makes me so proud to know the words were a seed when I sang them to her mother…and from my grandmother to me.
Life is a garden…some flowers grow in the shade…some grow in the light.
That Van Gogh…he really got it!
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