Today was a carbon copy of a summer day in sweet home Alabama — beautiful blue sky, a few white clouds, birds singly loudly all day. A big mocking bird sat on the topmost branch of a tall fir tree across the street and sang his heart out. Honestly, I think he sang for an hour or more. He should not have a hard time finding a mate with all his glorioius singing.

I got hot and came in the house mid-afternoon and picked up a few quote books and my iPad and sat down in my reading chair in my cool bedroom to do a little pondering. I thought about leftovers and then I thought about twilight. Don’t ask…

When I give my attention to God in prayer and thanksgiving it’s usually a brief thanks from the porch swing as I greet another beautiful day and watch the birds, then my prayers at bedtime and a quick thank you for another day prayer in the morning when I wake. I read the Bible as I’m looking for verses and quotes for my writing. I’m thinking maybe I’m giving God the leftover moments of my life and not satisfying him with my daily worship. Lot of us attend church on Sundays and try to stretch out our spiritual meal till the next Sunday. We eat those leftovers from Sunday to Sunday, all week till we need to be fed spiritually again on Sunday.

God deserves our commitment. We have to pay attention to our spirituality to grow and mature in faith. Don’t fit God into empty places in your day, fit your day around worship with God. Don’t give him the leftovers of your day’s time. Colossians 3:17 reads, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” I’m putting down my bird guides and picking up my Bible. I’m going to be more committed to the study of my faith. No more leftovers.

As I sat in the yard tonight watching the sunset end a glorious day I marveled at how the earth responds to the sunset. The twilight brings quietness and a soft coolness to the evening, a magical time of golden soft light. The light is wondrous as I look down the street and watch the fireflies wake and blink their nightlights. The massive magnolias and the tall old oaks are silhouetted in jet black. The earth pauses as the day creatures quiet down to a happy slumber and the night wakes with a full moon hanging in a sky of twinkling stars. I love to sit in the twilight and welcome the darkness. I feel closest to Chief then.

This poem by James W. Warnack has been read at every funeral in my family since 1935 when it was first read during the funeral of my grandfather, Paul Faulkner Lane. It was last read at Chief’s funeral in 2021. I always think of Chief at twilight and wonder if he’s looking down on our family. Here’s the poem.

When Twilight Comes —

When twilight comes and I shall close my eyes

And friends step softly, thinking me asleep

Oh then, I think I shall begin to live,

And manifest, in many wondrous ways,

Those qualities of gladness and of love

Which now so faintly radiate from me.

Oh, then I shall begin to sing with power

Those songs which now I try in vain to voice!

And I shall speak in tones that shall not fail

To reach the ears of those I loved on earth

And those I knew and loved long, long ago.

Then shall I see the glories of my dreams

And hear the music of my own glad heart

And feel the thrill of angels presence.

Thus at twilight when I close my eyes

And friends stop softly thinking that I sleep

Oh, then, I think, I shall begin to live. — James W. Warnack

“In daylight I belong to the world . . . in the night to sleep and eternity. But in the dusk I’m free from both and belong only to myself . . . and you.” — Lucy Maud Montgomery