While we were in Casablanca, we stayed in an apartment. It was several flights up and we usually opted to take the stairs.

In the evening, we started going down the stairwell and the lights suddenly turned off. It was pitch black. And I mean blacker than black. I quickly tried to turn on the flashlight on my phone and then I found a wall switch which turned the lights back on.

We all commented on how it kind of freaked us out.

Zach said, “That wasn’t just dark. It was the absence of light.”

For some reason that has just stuck with me.

Sometimes things in life are dark. But other times they ARE the absence of light.

I can handle dark. But the absence of light? I never want to go without. I have been there and it is not a place I will ever choose to go back to.

But it gets me thinking: what is my light? What light is still there even when I do have dark times? I’ve concluded it’s my God, my faith, my husband, my children, my family, and my friends.

I’ve also concluded that it is me. It is my willingness to be vulnerable and trust the light that comes from those listed above. To borrow that light when needed. To give back that light when needed.

Light is so much more powerful than darkness. I need to make sure that even in the midst of darkness, there is always some light.