Points of Light

Today is our last one here.

On our first day, I found Managua’s tunnel-streets oppressive. I still do.

At 6 p.m. on winter nights, I find Pella streets oppressive, too. The Iowa sky has no right to be so dark so early.

Last night I remembered, how in the Iowa night, to combat the depressing black, I search for points of light— a street light, approaching car, or radiant window.

From the Managua taxi this morning, I seek Managua’s points of light, and find them.

-A row of blooming trinitario (bougainvillea).

-An eight-foot poinsettia.

-A brightly painted corner store.

-A collection of palm trees.

-A woman watering her dirt road to reduce dust.

It is hard work.

So is looking for points of light in the Iowa night.

But it is work I am called to by the Rose of Sharon, the Light of the World.

This is my Father’s world—every corner of it.