I have a friend who comes over every week or so to take me through a yoga lesson. I walked into this commitment skeptical that my body could do it– my bones feel like old pipes, my veins streams of red, often stagnant, the waters drifting listlessly.

We’ve been doing this yoga thing for a few weeks now and something happened this morning during our session. I was lying in my back, sunlight pouring freely through the window behind me, splashing playfully on my face. I’d close my eyes and the sweet pink nectar of the sun washed me clean of all guilt and fear. I was being cleansed by the warmth, the pure love, the very light of forgiveness itself.

It was the light of youth, the light of playground trips as a youth, the light of laughter, the glow of the beating heart of God.

We are forgiven and live in heaven on earth. There are no transgressions that the light cannot pierce. The light breathes inside us, and sometimes it just takes a window and a little willingness to see that.