Last night, I sat through the Easter Vigil.
Three hours.
We began in darkness—
waiting, watching, listening.
And slowly, the light came.
Candles were lit, one by one.
Scripture unfolded.
And then we witnessed something deeply moving—
over a dozen people entering the Church through baptism and confirmation.
There is something about that moment that always touches me.
New life.
New beginnings.
A visible reminder that God is still at work.
I left the church full—
quietly moved, but at peace.
⸻
And then… real life.
My daughter and I went to pick up my son from the airport just after midnight.
I wasn’t even supposed to go, but I didn’t want her waiting alone that late.
And then—unexpectedly—
our car wouldn’t start.
A dead battery.
It was cold.
It was late.
And we were stuck.
My kids began to stress.
What do we do?
How long will this take?
Why is this happening?
And I found myself… calm.
Not because I had a solution—
but because I knew one would come.
“We’ll call Dad,” I said.
“He can come after work and help us.”
There was no urgency in me.
No panic.
Just a quiet certainty:
We will get through this.
⸻
As we waited, I realized something.
A few hours earlier, we had lit candles in the darkness.
We had proclaimed that light overcomes night.
That death does not have the final word.
And now, standing in a parking lot at midnight—
nothing dramatic, nothing spiritual on the surface—
that same light was still there.
Not as a feeling.
Not as emotion.
But as steadiness.
⸻
When my husband arrived, he too was calm.
No frustration. No blame.
Just presence.
He even made a joke of it.
And slowly, the tension lifted.
We got the car started.
We made it home—late, tired, but at peace.
⸻
I thought about my children.
At their age, I would have reacted the same way they did—
anxious, unsettled, trying to control what couldn’t be controlled.
But life will bring these moments again and again.
Unexpected interruptions.
Inconvenience.
Situations we cannot fix right away.
And perhaps this is how we learn.
Not by avoiding difficulty—
but by walking through it.
By discovering, slowly, that there is always a way forward.
And more than that—
That we are not alone in it.
⸻
Faith does not remove life’s inconveniences.
Cars still break down.
Plans still change.
We still find ourselves waiting in the cold.
But something within us can be different.
Steadier.
Quieter.
More trusting.
⸻
The Easter Vigil does not end when we leave the church.
The light we receive
is the light we are meant to carry—
into the ordinary,
into the unexpected,
into the small moments that test us.
Even in a parking lot,
at midnight,
with a dead battery—
the light remains.
God Bless 🙏❤️
Be Inspired! 
Leave a comment