Monday, February 20, 2012

The flicker of the flames


Lights from passing cars and street sweep across the windows, the room is dim, save the small flickering tea lights on a plate.  A glass of wine, a chunk of fresh bread. Our new Sunday night tradition, a time to pause, reflect, give thanks, and to be still. Remembering.

Noise from the apartment below, a teenager and way too many friends playing video games.  The bass can be felt on the floor.  Above, a mother is yelling at her son, again, for apparently, everything he has ever done wrong. It’s a miracle our children are sleeping. Our eyes exchange a long glance and we sigh, one more month.

Yet, somehow it all seems so fitting, the unwanted noise and strife that surrounds us.

The flames reflect on the wine glass, brightening the rich crimson. I watch it for a while, noticing how the light makes the color even more lovely and vibrant.  Our hands rest intertwined on the table. He starts with a prayer.  I don’t like to close my eyes when praying, I never have.  Maybe, there are messages and beauty that are meant to accompany the words. And I think that prayer is the opposite of darkness.  As I listen, I watch the dancing reflection more.  If my eyes were closed, I would have only heard the unwanted noise, I would never have noticed.

In a world that’s plagued with brokenness and hopelessness, anger and pain, confusion and turmoil,

there is a light that makes all things new and beautiful.

on the night he was betrayed, took bread, 24and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” 25In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.”

-1 Corinthians 11:23-25

1 comment:

  1. This is such a deep, beautiful and reflective piece ... I loved how you mentioned praying with your eyes open & the messages we miss...


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