Shadow

She stands still, tries to be patient until the light goes off. Once it does, she runs a few steps forward and to the side, spinning around to see the shadow she's left behind. "I wish she could come with me and play with me and teach me to see what she sees," she dreams. "Oh, yes!" she exclaims, "shadows can get bigger or smaller or disappear or fly or just be." She wishes her image farewell before it has time to fade away, and we're of to explore more exciting things the Children's Museum has to offer. On the way home, she's quiet, contemplative. "You know what? Shadows are dark, but they're made because of light. That's just too good!"

This past week, I've needed a shadow friend. Someone to remind me that there would be no light without the darkness, no joy without sadness. A reminder that no matter how dark my life gets, I'm surrounded by Light. Light that knows my darkest places and loves me. Light that guides my heart, buoys my thoughts, and leads me in the right direction. Light that frees me to embrace the idea that even in times of darkness, perhaps especially in times of darkness, I'm made because of Light. That's just too good!

"What is it that shadows see that we don't?" I ask.

"Our light, of course! Only our light. Like we see only their dark. I'd like to see everyone's light, without the other stuff in the day. That would be too good!"

"I have a feeling you do already, my lovie. And it is too good!"