This Little Light

My mom and dad had an awesome back yard. First, it was big ... really big. And second, it had two huge old oak trees that sat in each corner. For you readers in Kansas ... they just don't grow trees out here on the plains the way they do in the South. Those trees in Mom and Dad's yard were massive, not just big ... massive. And in the summer, the back yard and the trees twinkled as if they were covered in miniature Christmas lights. Again for you Kansans, the lights were from what we Southerners call lightning bugs ... fireflies to my Midwestern friends. I can remember as if it were yesterday running through Mom and Dad's back yard chasing those lightning bugs. My niece and I would catch them and put them in jars with holes in the lids so they could breathe. We would carry our glass torches around for a while, and then we would always release the tiny bugs back into the night.

It's hot and humid in Kansas City tonight, so I waited until later to go for my evening walk, mainly so that Ollie the wiener dog wouldn't get too hot. We walked for about 45 minutes and by the time we started for home, it was getting pretty dark. It was the first time I had walked with Ollie after dark so I didn't know how he would react to the quickly approaching night. I couldn't help but think about my little J.R. and how he would keep his eyes locked on me when we walked at night. I picked up my pace a bit because the darkness is a little creepy on the trail, and to my surprise, Ollie ran ahead of me with his tail wagging furiously ... the night seemed to energize him rather than frighten him.

As we approached the bridge that signaled we were almost home, Ollie suddenly stopped in his tracks, his tail standing straight up and the hair on his back raised. When he began to growl, the feeling of fear gripped me as I strained to see what had caught his attention. Try as I might, I couldn't see anything in the darkness ... I couldn't see but Ollie could, and whatever he was seeing, he didn't like it one bit. I tugged on his leash, but he stood firmly refusing to move. I was mentally chastising myself for not bringing a flashlight with me; in fact, I even left my phone at home. And that's when it happened ... one of those things that can only be attributed to being a God thing. As if on divine cue, the woods to my right and the trail before me began to sparkle with tiny lights ... the tiny lights of lightning bugs. It wasn't a spotlight by any means, but it was enough light for me to see the frog on the trail in front of my furry friend that had caused him to stop.

Lifting Ollie into my arms and stepping around the slimy little creature, my eyes filled with tears as I thought about the little bugs and their lights ... about not being able to see the path ahead of me ... about being gripped with fear. I couldn't help but think about how many times God sends little lights into my life to help me to see, to guide me along, to soothe my soul. And I couldn't help but wonder how many times I miss those lights because I'm so focused on the darkness around me. As Ollie and I turned into my driveway and we waited for the garage door to raise, I whispered a prayer in the quiet of the night.

Thank You, Lord, for the glimmers of light in the deepest night ... thank You for the lightning bugs of Your love ... thank You.