Porchlight

I admit it.  I have been that girl.  The one who turned out my porch lights when certain people came to me in their darkness.  But I have also been that woman.  The one who welcomed in junkies and misfits, because they were my friends.  Cooked for them and kissed their heads softly while they slept.  

Today, I am reflecting on the people who would welcome me if I showed up in darkness.  Who would turn on their porch light if they saw me coming.  Tearfully, I recognize my blessings.  The love, guided by angels, that surrounds me.  Somehow I hold the hand of gratitude while feeling the chill of  uncertainty.  Yet, just sensing that light is out there, waiting for me, may be enough to help me feel it’s warmth.

B’H,  jrb

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