FAITH & HIGHER POWER
Maya rolled her eyes at the bumper sticker wisdom plastered on the minivan in front of her. "Higher spiritual power? Please." Crumbling roads and blaring horns were her reality, not whatever saccharine notion that sticker tried to promote. She needed a strong cup of coffee to face the day, not some new-age platitude.
Traffic eased enough for her to pull into her usual coffee shop parking lot. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, highlighting the tired faces of customers and the overworked baristas. Still, the familiar scent of coffee beans mingled with a promise of warmth and caffeine, pushing back against the morning chill.
"Science and progress, not 'powers'," she muttered, taking a sip of her latte. Belief in the unseen always seemed frivolous when there were bills to pay and successes to achieve. The weight of overdue notices pressed on her mind.
Her phone buzzed – another debt reminder. This was her world. Concrete, predictable, and oftentimes maddeningly difficult. Maya sighed, wincing as she checked her bank balance.
And then – darkness. The lights overhead flickered ominously and went out, leaving the café in an abrupt twilight. Groans and murmurs rippled through the room. Maya frowned, muttering about the city's unreliable power grid. This was yet another hurdle in her day.
But then, a defiant flicker appeared at one of the tables. Someone had a lighter. Soon after, tiny flames blossomed throughout the space – phone flashlights, bits of paper lit on candle stubs. It was a scene of shared resilience against the unexpected gloom.
The transformation was remarkable. Whispers softened into conversations, faces relaxed in the flickering light, and strangers offered to share their small sources of illumination. Maya felt an unexpected lightness, like the first ray of sun peeking through storm clouds.
When the power blinked back on, the coffee shop seemed oddly bland. Maya sipped the rest of her coffee thoughtfully, the words on that minivan bumper sticker flashing in her mind.
Maybe it wasn't about a "higher power" in the religious sense. Maybe it was about something as simple as a flicker of human connection, the way a small act of defiance against darkness could spread so swiftly. Perhaps belief wasn't about blind faith, but rather about holding on to the proof that little lights could, in fact, push back the shadows. And perhaps, this is how spiritual power helps us experience it in every small, seemingly insignificant act.
