I was praying the Rosary this morning in front of the Crucifix when the sunrise caught my eye.
Across the house, through a far window, beyond the trees.
The edges of yellow, splashes of pinks and oranges were melting the blues and purples and chasing away the pitch black.
The scene was so beautiful that I walked away from the Cross to get a closer look.
But everywhere I moved, the view diminished.
Branches blocking the canvas, colors not so bright.
Only when I returned to my original spot, right at the foot of the Cross, could I see the most spectacular view.
Only when I stand firmly in one place, looking up at Jesus.
That is where the Light is perfect.