I was lying on the sofa, reading, when I glanced up at the light.  Ugh, it’s got dead bugs in it, I thought rather loudly to myself.  As I stared at their little dead bodies, I lamented the sometimes insidious nature of insects, and how they often create work for me.  Like how, now that I’ve noticed them, I’ll have to go through the hassle of getting the step ladder, carefully removing the fixture, and cleaning it all up – definitely not on the top ten list of cherished activities (though what is?  hmmm…).

Then, as I continued gazing at the light, I wondered, how do the little critters get in there anyway?  Though you can barely see them in the photo, they only appear to be specks, they seem too large to have crawled in through a hole.  Yet, there they are.

This got me thinking some more about how tiny, often imperceptible, holes in my being act as an entry point on a spiritual and emotional level.  I thought about people and events that I don’t like, and how little bits of them squeeze their way through a perforation in my shell and infest my mind with angry and unkind thoughts.  I really hate it when that happens, especially when I know how much lovelier life is when I’m not tumbling down to the lower depths.

Then, as grace would have it, I also thought about those same holes, and how the most wonderful and generous gifts enter through them: a smile when I least expect it, a kind word, the light in the hallway, the sight of my husband, a million different instances that spread like the light of dawn in my heart. 

Suddenly I felt tears prick at my eyes, and I looked at the bugs again but this time with gratitude.  Thank you for bringing this bit of grace into my life.