Vibrance inside

Tonight I was sitting on the back deck that overlooks the valley below our bluff and across to the houses nestled in the twilight on the opposite ridge above the valley. The sun had already sunk below the horizon, so lights on the houses of the distant ridge were shining and flickering in the distance. I sat musing what was going on in the houses on the distant ridge. Of course, there's no way to know. I'm at a distance.

I guess I was thinking this because of my tendency to keep people at a distance from me. Part of that trait is the result of growing up in the Dallas area where a person has to be somewhat impersonal just to survivie there. There are a number of other influences too. But I had to notice while sitting on the back deck that the light from my kitchen window was spilling out onto the deck. The kitchen light flickered at a distance to those on the ridge I was seeing. But, to me it was pouring out over my shoulder. I knew what was in the house behind me. I could turn and see into it if I wanted to or walk into it. I didn't have to guess what was in it.

A few people see me for who I am. I am not a distant light across the valley. When that happens the light inside of me burns more brilliantly, more vibrantly. I am more productive, more at ease with my soul. I don't always know about what lies in the twilight on the ridges of distant hills, but I am certain that any light shining from my windows, shines more brightly because someone sees into me, accepting me for who I am, inspiring me to greater heights because of who they are. I could only hope the same fortunate circumstance for the people in the houses across the way.