“You know if you were to update your light fixtures, you could add value?”  A realtor explains as she tours our house last fall.

To me our home is priceless. Set against a quiet hillside, wood-burning fireplace, a window above our sink, a similar sunken living room to the one I played in as a child.

The light fixtures are nice, but lean towards the previous decade.
I’ve considered replacing them.  Many time’s actually.

I often find myself coveting other friend’s fixtures. The realtor is correct, it is something you notice when you walk into a home.

Modern, rustic, farmhouse.

I’ve gone to Home Depot numerous times to peruse that bright aisle, only to leave empty handed.

It is ridiculous but to me it represents something more.

My home is bright, it has a view of the Swan Mountain Range.  For whatever reason, light fixtures have become that extra step, that extra amount of money to fix something not broken.

Speaking with a friend living across the ocean I find myself aware once again of those pesky light fixtures.

I met her while doing street outreach in Southern Africa. At the time she was living on the streets. I held her newborn baby and we became fast friends.
Years later, her son now a grown child, sits on a mattress on the floor.

I ask her to turn on the lights so I can see her face. “Lights?” She looks at me quizzically. I pause long enough to realize; she likely doesn’t have electricity.

Her smile is bright enough to power the room, as she walks out into the sunshine, fruit trees line her street. Kids run freely past her energetic spirit.

I realize, it isn’t the fixtures, it isn’t even the electricity that brings forth the light propelling us through life. It is the joy we find in the simplicity of living this complicated journey.

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