Wildflower Writes

Photo by  Michael Henry  on  Unsplash The microwave beeped. The lights went out. All was silent. Another power outage. I resigned myself to getting ready for work in the dark. A single flashlight provided just enough light to make sure my clothes matched and my hair was tamed. At some point I wandered to the window in another room to observe the darkened neighborhood, eerie in the predawn gloom. I realized I could see the furniture in the room, which should have been impossible with no electricity and no lights. The tiny flashlight from two rooms away was emitting enough light for me to see where I was going. Sometimes we think our light isn’t very bright, that the good we do is unnoticed or inconsequential. In a dark world, every light is important; every light is seen. Keep shining.

It was a rotten morning. I arrived at work late. Almost as soon as I walked in the door, a nurse administrator approached me, angry, asking what I knew about an email she had received from corporate. I was caught in the middle and I still had to get my Monday morning report done before the 8:30 meeting. From there I got about half a dozen calls from people who needed something from me right away, and I still had catching up to do from the week before. I was physically tired, emotionally spent, and in a depressed mood. It was only 10 AM. As I tried to gear up to meet with a case worker, I realized I was not my usual self. I didn’t want to be nice and I didn’t want to make small talk. The bright spot was a young man in street clothes who held a door for me. That little bit of kindness was like a ray of sunshine slicing through the clouds of my dark mood. On my way back to the office from the hospital, I caught a snippet of Insight for Living on WFRN. Chuck Swindoll was talkin...