Little Light of Mine

We were late to school today. A late long night caught in a tornado warning. . .standing in the bathroom of a convenience store. . .caused us to be up late. . .

My son starts every school day with chapel. (I should be so lucky.) He sings songs to Jesus first thing every morning. Today, I sat next to him. In the back of the church, we sat hearing voices bounce off the wooden ceiling while being dimly lit by the stained class windows that point heavenward.

Asa smiled and raised his finger in the air to sing "This little light of mine." I started to put my finger up. . .then. . . I paused thinking," I am too old to raise my little light."
Then, I balked. . .catching myself in the real issue. . .

a life lived in political correctness inside a world that is not kind to people who show their light.

I raised my finger and choked on the loss of my childlike boldness. I raised my little light.