5 PM Candle

When I think back to my teenage years, my mom always had a candle lit. As I got older the candle became more and more delicious, filling our home with a sweet scent and a glow that still sparks my imagination to this day. 

My mom often kept this at her sink. As I grow and live more life, I recognize I spend quite a bit of time at the sink, hands in suds, washing one more glass, scraping one last bit of dinner down the disposal.

My mom doesn’t live on earth anymore. She lives in Heaven, so I can’t ask her why she began the 5 pm candle ritual. All I know is that it left a mark. 

I have begun to light a candle when I enter my kitchen to make dinner each night.  I don’t really do it for the scent, although that is nice. I don’t even do it for the warm glow. I do it to pause and invite my mind back to God.

Because sometimes by 5 pm, I forget that He is with me.

I take a matchbook and scrap the match against the grainy side. Collins is typically working on schoolwork, Carter wants to help cook and Connolly is playing by my feet. There is probably screaming and arguments and spills and sticky screens. It’s the soundtrack of my life. 

When I light a candle, I don’t use a lighter, although those are nice. But there is something about the process, of the grain and the match. The spark and the flicker. My soul needs it. There is something about the flame that my soul needs.  That even at 5 pm, God is still with me.

Maybe my mom lit candles because she liked the smell, the glow, or maybe she too, needed to be reminded that God was with her. I am not sure it matters. That’s the beautiful part of life. For her it could be one thing. For me it’s basking in the glow of God. One match against the grainy matchbook at a time.