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.

Photo by  Heather Ford  on  Unsplash I didn’t want to cook tonight. I knew it would require defrosting. I finally decided garlic butter chicken sounded good. Half an hour later, I had chicken baking in the oven. As I relaxed in the living room with my mobile game, the scent of garlic wafted in. One tablespoon of the chopped root had soon overtaken the whole place. I think acts of kindness are like garlic. It doesn’t take much to flavor someone’s day, to bring a smile to someone’s face. Even if you’re not the direct recipient of the kindness, the spirit of it can permeate the air. Kindness starts as an attitude, a belief that all people deserve the benefit of the doubt. It also implies that we have the power to make a positive impact on other people. The only thing left is to open our eyes to look for opportunities to be kind to others. In my opinion, almost everything is better with a little garlic.

Photo by  Diego PH  on  Unsplash I used to live in a place where light bulbs had a ridiculously short life. I don’t know enough about electricity to know if it was the way the house was wired, or the dollar store bulbs, or if there was another reason some light bulbs had to be changed after just weeks of use. It’s difficult to tell if a bulb is “good” until you actually screw it into a fixture that is turned on and is connected to electricity. By itself, a light bulb can’t brighten a room. It has to be connected to the power of electricity for it to work. I think too many times we try to shine out of our own power. We rely on willpower to keep going on, long after we’ve lost the joy, purpose, and vision that sparked interest in the first place. The truth is, we’re not meant to live life alone. We’re meant to be connected to one another, as part of a larger fixture. We’re also meant to be connected to a Higher Power. Like the variety of light bulbs available for diff...

  Photo by Dennis Buchner on Unsplash Yesterday, I took a walk through the park and was amazed at the beauty of ice and snow-covered trees. It was like a picture postcard, white frosted branches against a gray sky, alongside a fast-moving river, with a few Canadian geese to keep me company. This morning as I lay snuggled in bed and heard the microwave let out a death beep and saw everything go dark, the snow and ice seemed less romantic. A glance out the window confirmed that my building and at least a few surrounding blocks were out of power. Yet, when I rode down a tree-lined street past a wooded property on my way to church, I couldn’t help but feel the same sense of wonder and admiration at the scenery. It was breathtaking. The same storm that caused downed power lines and fallen trees and icy roads created beauty unmatched by anything humanly designed or created. The inconvenience and hardship of no electricity didn’t diminish the goodness that I recognized the day befo...

If you’ve never seen Rene Hicks on Comedy Central, you have missed out on one special, hilarious young lady. Born to a Pentecostal preacher father and equally devout mother, Rene ran cross country in college, earned a business degree, and became an accountant in a large firm. On a dare she improvised a routine on amateur night at a comedy club, and the rest is history. As an otherwise healthy woman, her diagnosis of lung cancer baffled her. She had never smoked, but had been exposed to second-hand smoke in the hundreds of clubs and venues she performed at. She made an appearance at the Women’s Council luncheon here in Elkhart today, to talk about the dangers of smoking, and I laughed so hard… well, you can guess the rest. A self-described cultural sherpa, history lover, and cancer survivor, Rene has a lot to talk about. Her unique perspective allows her to see little incongruities in what people say and do, and the results are a riot. Most people wouldn’t think that cancer could b...

Continued from 5/3 post… Wendy put aside her chips and snuggled down under her blanket. The images on the television set grew fuzzy as she dozed off to sleep. She awoke abruptly and sat straight up. Her mind tried to sort out the underground caves from her dreams and where she was now. It was dark. What time was it? She groped for her cell phone but was unable to locate it. She stumbled through the darkness, banging her shin on the coffee table. “Ouch!” she muttered. She realized it was very dark. Neither the oven nor the microwave sported the usual neon numbers. The storm must have knocked out the power. Wendy made her way back to her parent’s bedroom. Seeing her mother’s form wrapped in bedclothes and hearing her soft snore, she relaxed a little. Feeling a little chagrined, she nonetheless crawled under the covers with her mom, feeling comfort in their closeness. Her mind drifted to childhood memories of doing the same thing when her father was away on business. As sleep...

Driving toward Indianapolis’ southeast side, there were multiple warnings, via both signage and radio reports, that construction and accident clean-up were ahead of us on I-465. On top of that, the impending rush hour led my husband and me to believe there was a good chance we’d get stuck or at least slowed by an onslaught of traffic. Even with adequate warning, with no GPS, map, and little Indianapolis driving experience, we had no idea what alternate route we could take to avoid the impending doom that awaited us. Add to that two geographically and directionally challenged individuals, and we really had little choice but to forge ahead. I wished my sister were with us. She lived in Indy for awhile and seemed to remember every route she’d ever taken to get anywhere. She could have told us exactly which exit to take to lead to the correct road to take us on the shortest route possible. I wonder how many people continue traveling in the same direction in life because they don’t have the...