Unexpected Light Bath

4:12 pm. I am at work. The Library has been busy all afternoon. As the semester is wrapping up, students are buckling down, getting serious about their papers and studies. They cluster in small groups, urgently forging theses and pushing themselves to complete assignments.

I love the hum of studious effort. People come and go quietly, seek reference materials, type furiously. The reference desk is constantly sought out by students who are stuck, need one more resource, can't figure how to cite something. It is a librarian's dream.

Suddenly there was a break in the questions, and I leaned back in the chair to stretch. As I did my face turned towards the little windows near the roof of the building. There along the stone wall and the light olive plaster overhang shone a swath of sunlight so bright I thought at first someone had turned on a floodlight.

Instinctively, I turned and looked out the lower windows near the reference desk. The sky was a dull gray with not a spot of sunshine in sight. I looked again towards the ceiling at the bright path of sunlight painting the top of the building with glory. How uplifting the warm sun appeared. I sat still and watched it for a full ten minutes before it moved beyond the walls and disappeared.

In another ten minutes, the world was bathed in that unique dusk that makes everything stand out in vivid relief as the sky blushes pink, then purple, then fades to velvet black. The near full moon obligingly continued reflecting the wash of light over the waiting world. It is a night of magic, of wonder; a night when miracles happen.

I want to reach out and take a miracle for my Father, who continues to struggle with breathing difficulties. I want to wave a strand of light over him and make the dis-ease go away. Alas, I cannot. I do the only thing I am able to do.

I bow my head beneath God's amazing heavens and pray for my Father, for strength and ease of breath, for peace and a close sense of God's presence. I send my prayers winging to the throneroom of grace, followed closely by my tears.

God collects my tears. He hears my prayers. Help is on the way. I know because Dad prayed faithfully for me during my cancer bout, and I felt God's presence and help. My words cease, but my heart flows on in love and concern for Dad. Send your light, O Lord, and deliver him from distress.