During a commercial, my husband asks,
“Can you scratch my back?”
“Scratch your back? Well, of course.”
It’s the least I can do.
Mindlessly moving my hand up and down his back I stare at my wall and silently ask, “Is this it? Scratching my husband’s back? Is my light shining?”
I do know that as I go around shining my light on the mundane tasks in life, I am being prepared for something WONDERFUL and BIG. With my faith, I’m at the edge of my seat expectantly waiting.
I do know my job is to be obedient to the task at hand.
Even if it is as simple as listening to my sister cry about wanting a baby so much that I can’t even relate. I do understand wanting the “impossible dream” to come true while realizing that it’s just not in the cards.
“So, when you see someone who has a baby, do you fight back tears and feel your shoulders sag two inches?” I ask my sister.
She gives me a quivering, “Yes.”
“Yep, I know the feeling.”
I know I shine bright when I bake salmon and tear up lettuce for a salad so my husband can have his dinner.
And . . . there are blessings in being obedient to being called . . . even if the call is to give someone you love a good back scratching.
I do recognize that a family, like the one on the Discovery Channel, can live in the wilderness with no dental plan and no convection oven, to name just a couple of things I like having, and still be content. And a TV producer wanted to film their life.
Go figure.
The members of that family must be shining lights for each other.
Dear God,
I desire to be a chandelier, not a burning candle.
A chandelier high up on the ceiling of a grand theater in New York.
But, with my high ambitions set aside, I believe my light begins shining at my home
. . . and as I obey your commands in small things, I am being led to larger ones.
God, there are a lot of women empty-nesters out there who, like me, want to make a difference.
Take our hands and guide us to to be a light in someone’s life today even if it’s so small and insignificant that only the walls see our brightness.
Amen, lola