There in early evening in the soft, warm, breath of the dimming sun, I stood alone lost in thoughts of “might-have-beens” and “should-have-dones.” Thinking not just of yesterdays long gone, but what I might face in my tomorrows. The sun interrupted by a passing cloud, sent a sudden chill from the still lingering early spring air.

Scanning the horizon I begged the sun for one more burst of light before it called the end to my day.

“Hurry cloud! Move on your way!” I shouted.

But the cloud seemed more determined to remain now.

“Why don’t you move?” I asked foolishly calling out to the sky.

In reply the cloud turned darker.

The sun began to set.

I was angry.

The world around me, once almost deafening from heavy rush hour traffic and children playing nearby, became suddenly silent.

“Have I lost my mind?” I thought. The world was standing still.

“Quietly.”

How odd that word should enter my mind.

“Quietly, still.”

What could this mean?

“You are trying too hard to control your life.”

“How? Who are you?”

“By moving the clouds, holding the sun…”

I interrupted. “I was only wanting to make it perfect.”

“You were wanting to change the things that were and control what will be.”

I was.

“There will be days of sun and days of darkness. You can no more control the darkest hours of your life than you can push away the clouds.”

“Then what can I do?”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? Who are you?”

“Close your eyes right now.”

I did.

“What do you see?”

“Nothing! What would you expect?” I replied in frustration.

“There is your problem.”

I shook my head.

“In darkness you must see the light. In silence you must hear the light.”

“Is that why the world stood still?”

“It did not. You did. The peace you seek is not in the hurry of your day, but in the quiet, stillness.”

I was abruptly made aware of my lingering daydreams by the sounds of my neighbor’s child calling for his mother.

Reality.

I looked toward the horizon and caught the final moments of a brilliant sunset. As I turned to my house, I caught the faint, dulled presence of the rising moon.

“Light in the darkness,” I said to myself.

“Quietly, still,” the voice echoed in my mind.

“Quietly, still! Who are you?” I said and remained standing there now with my eyes closed.

“Oh, thank you, God,” I said. “I can see the Light.”