Each morning begins in a kind of quiet sanctuary. Before the world fully wakes, I breathe in the familiar scent of my favorite coffee, warm and comforting, and light a candle as an invitation, a gentle summons for the Holy Spirit to guide my prayer and my day. I settle into the chair where I always pray, a place shaped by habit and grace, and savor those first slow sips while meditating on the prayer our Lord gave us.
What do the first moments of your day look like?
I’ve learned not to rush this space. Not to devour every reflection or spiritual insight that comes my way. There is a richness in slowing down, in letting one prayer be enough, in trusting that God meets me in the simplicity of presence rather than the quantity of words.
Recently, one of my favorite candles reached its end, the flame simply gave out. It surprised me how much it stirred in me. That extinguished wick brought back memories of the retreat where I was blessed to serve as a spiritual director last year with Fr. Hung Pham, SJ at the Redemptorist Renewal Center in Tucson. So many graces from that time still live quietly in me.
But candles, like seasons, have their natural conclusion. Their purpose fulfilled, their light offered. And when one season ends, another begins.
Now each morning I light a new candle, Bloom, fragrant with bluebonnet, lilac, and wisteria. A dear friend gave it to me, and it carries a mission far larger than its scent. It’s a partnership between two organizations working to end human trafficking, helping light the way toward freedom for men, women, and children.
Its name, The Beauty of Hope, feels like a prayer in itself. Proceeds from every candle support nonprofits laboring daily to set people free. So as I strike the match each morning, I ask for the grace to be anchored in that beauty, the beauty of hope that refuses to dim.
I pray for all of creation who live in some form of bondage, visible or hidden. May the Holy Spirit light our path toward freedom. May we bloom where we are planted. And may the small flame of this candle remind me that hope, once lit, can illuminate far more than the room it sits in.
Smitten With Goodness 