Rest, for me, looks like wrapping up in a blanket staring out at the city skyline or up at the stars. Twin twinkles in the black.
I am so deeply grateful for every part of my life here.
I pray over the skyline a lot, as a lot of people know. Bringing Amy to pray over the skyline was the first moment she fell in love with the city. I have a favorite spot, sitting on steps next to the water here in Queens, looking out at Midtown.
Black crystal waves teem between me and the Manhattan lights — square stars standing still on blocky buildings. My fingers grow numb from the cold. I try to make out a single person moving in the thousands of windows, but no one stirs; nothing is alive.
Until!
FLASH!
A new star, tiny but unmistakable.
FLASH! FLASH!
Empire state building. The observation deck. Could it be — ?
A weak orange light and a couple quick flashes confirm. These are camera flashes! From the far side of teh river I can see them.
FLASH! A family on vacation from Belgium.
FLASH! A marriage proposal.
FLASH! A ladies’ trip for forty-somethings to forget their husbands and household cares.
FLASH! FLASH! FLASH! I realize I’m grinning.
I feel like I’m stealing pennies from a wishing well.
But just a little further back, the lights stay still. Office lights on too late. I have friends who hope to be out by eleven.
I cried tonight. I imagined, as I often do, what it could look like to see the weary of this town lay their burdens down and know they are loved beyond compare.
Sometimes, I picture a dandelion in my fingers. I don’t throw in my own pennies; Instead, with every prayer over the city, I blow, blow, blow, and I picture silver, spinning seeds in my imagination, floating down -- into yellow taxis, union square, theater marquees, little old houses...
Someday, for some people, as small as I am, the seeds will bloom into something beautiful.
Make a wish.