On Good Friday, especially, it can seem a dark lonely time. Today, of all days, I received a written message from a friend asking me to light a candle for someone she loved dearly. This is a first from my friend. Most of my friends, especially my long-time friends, know I always have a candle going when I am awake and, a running conversation with God as I go about my day. When my friends need comfort or an extra prayer, they call or email. Curiously, it is not often, but when I hear that cry, or soft sigh, I feel the need to respond.

When I began this blog back in 2013, I wrote of my efforts to be with people who were comfortable using the term, Name and actions of God. You can find some of those thoughts under the Category “Explorations – Coming Home” off to the right on the open page. I do recall having panic attacks just to approach the front door of the local church. Two years later, I feel richer, more blessed, and very much in God’s Hands than at any other time of my life. Was it the Church? No. The Church is more a community for me, a place to be with like-minded believers.

I feel closer to God, Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit because I have been blessed to spend time ~ quiet time with the Presence of God and be able to just sit within the Light of that Presence. My mind is a noisy place and when I can simply surrender to the quiet, every part of my life is better for it. My life is filled with His Presence and I get to be a part of something bigger than myself.

Tomorrow is the Easter Vigil. I do not recall this from my childhood. The local church I attend does this wonderful service. (These are my memories and I could be off on the exact religious ritual practices.) We all meet as dusk falls, around 8:00 p.m. We are outside the doors of the Church, the stones of the courtyard under our feet, the chill of night stealing through our jackets. The Church’s doors are closed, the windows dark.

The Priest comes and he lights a fire within a smallish caldron, saying a special prayer and blessing. From that fire, he lights a candle, which then lights a candle for the person next to him and the lighting of individual tapers passes from one person to the next until the courtyard is filled with tiny flickering lights. The Priest leads the way into the darkened Church. It is amazing how oppressive true darkness is. The parishioners carefully protect their tapers with a cupped hand and we flow into the pews. It is a very quiet, hushed atmosphere with bodies rustling, a child’s voice piping up here and there, but most of all, what stays with me is that amazing spectacle of small flames flickering in the darkness, awaiting the Resurrection.

The Light comes and it was always here. xxoo Hunt