Welcome to The Light, your quiet hour for reflection.
There is something ancient in the way a parent folds their hands and speaks into the dark on behalf of a child. Prayer, in this sense, is not superstition but a form of radical attention, a turning of the whole self toward something larger than fear, asking that love be enough to hold what we cannot control.
And holding what we cannot control seems to be the quiet ache beneath so many lives. Lysa TerKeurst names it plainly in her new work, that particular terror of trusting a plan that may not resemble the one we hoped for. What if grace arrives in a form we do not recognize? That question does not dissolve with faith. It deepens it.
Then there is the longing that lives in the bones of those who have left a place they love. Ben Faccini writes of the Italian diaspora suspended between homecoming and fantasy, haunted by food and memory and the myth that return is always possible. La dolce vita, it seems, is sweetest when it remains just out of reach, a ghost that keeps us moving.
That is this hour's reflection. Carry the light gently.
