The Light

"Pray for the light, pray for the light, pray for the light." My mentor, friend, spiritual director, second mother's words are ringing loud and clear in my head tonight. "April, pray for the light." And I am. With every heartbeat tonight, I am praying for the light. With every bite of frozen yogurt, I am praying for the light. With every minute that I listen to my husband and his baby brother playing night basketball out my bedroom window, I'm praying for the light. Through every tear on my cheek, every dish in my hand, every breath in my lungs, I'm praying for the light.

Because for me, nothing compares to living in the light. Everything is harder when I can't find the light.

I don't know what it means for you. I don't know what the light looks like in your life. For me, it looks like living with purpose, in the Kingdom of God, joy-filled and free. Struggles still exist and tears still roll down my cheeks. But I never feel alone because the light always surrounds me, envelops me, sets me free.

So tonight, I'm laying in my bed, listening to the boys laughing out my window, and praying for the light. And maybe I should pray too that my eyes could be open enough to see it when it breaks through. And until then, please God, let my heart hold on.