Light in the Darkness

 I had a Godwink happen recently and wanted to tell you about it.

So, recently I’d been telling some family and friends about something I’m struggling with. Many of you know I’m converting to Judaism. But as part of this journey, I’m actually supposed to change my name to something that is Hebrew. 

Several weeks ago, my Rabbi went over about a dozen names with me. She found things that seemed as if they might fit me. But this is much harder than it sounds, and I want to pick the perfect name. After a lot of thought, I kept thinking about the name “Liora”—which means light. (I also thought about “Eliora”—light of G-d). But there are honestly too many choices, and I’d just been thinking how I desperately wish I could have some type of confirmation about the name Liora.

Anyway, this thought wouldn’t leave me, and it probably didn’t help that cancer treatments have been especially tough this month.

Despite that, I finally dragged myself out of bed and decided to go grocery shopping.

I’m truly a creature of habit lately, and there’s a place I always park. It’s the handicap area, right up front. But after I parked this time, something incredible happened! 

Somebody had put a painted rock right in front of the parking spot! It was later in the day, and the golden-painted sun shone so brightly in my headlights. I got out of my car, so excited to read the words on the rock, and I gasped as I held the rock in my hands. 

“Be the light in someone’s darkness,” I read the words aloud and studied every detail about that rock. You could see where the weather had worn off parts of the paint and even chipped away at pieces of the rock itself. I realized then that the rock had probably been sitting there for quite a while! How many times had I parked in that spot and missed a miracle waiting right in front of me?! That alone is such a good lesson: There are all these beautiful things around us, but we have to be aware and open; otherwise, we might miss them. 

I decided to take the rock and put it on my desk. But I didn’t want to go without leaving something behind, so I bought a really uplifting card and taped it where the rock had been. I hoped everyone who saw it would feel inspired, but I also wanted the rock artist to see it.

It’s interesting because the next day, I returned to the grocery store and happened to tell the cashier about this. “It’s confirmation about the name Liora,” I said. “I’d just been wondering if I should pick that name—which means light. I can hardly believe I immediately FOUND a rock that talked about being the light in the darkness! It was such a godwink.”

“You just gave me chills,” the cashier said, beaming so much. HER name should be Eliora! “I can hardly wait to tell the artist,” she whispered.

“Wait?! You know her?”

The woman nodded. “She’ll love this story. You know,” she paused, looking at me with wonder, “she leaves those rocks, hoping to bring people joy. It’s all she really wants.”

I wondered then if she was the artist, but I didn’t say anything. She would’ve told me if she wanted to.

So I left the store, knowing what my new name would be and feeling as if life couldn’t possibly get any better.