Why We Light Candles

That one All Saints' Day...

Years back, right after my mother passed, I found myself in a Basilica lighting a candle for her.

This is an updated version of a true account of how God works with and through those we love and why we light candles.

Looking Through the Veil of Lament and God’s Holy Plan

The Basilica was majestic with glorious stained glass, among grand statues, carved reliefs on the walls, and mosaics almost alive. The beauteous dome encased in gold above the sanctuary caught my eye as the natural light spilled in. The ceiling's painting of the Lord God so high above reached toward me.

In the quiet, I heard a cough, a sniffle, and shoes shuffling. As I lit a candle for Mom, I wondered how she knew.

Mom's sickness had accelerated, and within a month of her diagnosis, she was in intensive care. I lived about three hours from the hospital and would drive back and forth from my home. I'll say it here, I was in complete denial that she was dying, as I think we all were, as I hear this happens to many with dying ones. One night, after I had settled in, my sister called and said, "Mom keeps saying call your sister she's in Eastern Europe. I keep telling her you're in Woodland Hills at home. Will you talk to her?"

I was curious, "Hi, Mom."

"Deborah."

"Mom, I am not in Eastern Europe. I am at home. But was I having a good time?"

"Oh yes, I just wanted your sister to check in with you."

A few days later, in the early morning, my sister called to tell me they were taking Mom off the machines. A calmness settled over me as I dressed. Looking into the mirror, I pulled my hair back with a clip.

While driving down to the hospital, it was the most beautiful day with blue skies and lovely clouds, and the light was spectacular. I thought, "What a perfect day to die." That may sound strange, but it was as if I had stepped into another world and knew something divine was going on. And isn't that what it truly is—when we take our last breath to awaken with God almighty?

As I was nearing the hospital on the freeway, two white doves suddenly flew through the cars toward my windshield and then up into the sky. "There goes, Mom," I thought.

Arriving at the hospital, the nurse told me that Mom had started the dying process fifteen minutes earlier, which would have been about the time when I saw the doves.

A few months later, a friend asked me to go on a film job with her to Budapest. I thought of my conversation with Mom and had to say yes.

It was November 1, All Saints’ Day, a national holiday in Budapest on which the Hungarians remember their departed loved ones by lighting candles and visiting churches and cemeteries.

I had the day off from work and decided to visit Saint Stephen's Basilica. In that cathedral, I felt the holiness, the sacredness. There, I lit a candle for Mom, wondering how she knew.

Days later, while Skyping in my hotel room, my husband said, "I'm reading the Bible."  

" I want to read it, too."

"Well, you're in a hotel room; look in the drawer."

Later, I settled on plush pillows, and as I was reading the Book of Matthew and all of Jesus' healings, one after another, I felt the Holy Spirit swoosh into me. Yes, 'swoosh' is the word I would use to describe the Spirit—a flooding, joyful, powerful moment, and I remembered my Jesus. How could I have forgotten the One who had been with me as a child caring for me during difficult times.

I spent many years as a prodigal daughter living with various philosophies. Now, as a woman who has embraced Jesus as her Savior, I see how God had pursued me all along. Through my mother's death, God prepared me for that moment when my heart would soften and open, when I would hear, see, and remember Jesus, my Savior. When I would give my heart to Him.

I will never forget that one fall in Budapest when I lit a candle for Mom, who died the previous April. I was in a sacred place where the veil between heaven and earth was thin, revealing God's love. After lighting my candle, I climbed the winding iron staircase of the Renaissance beauty and onto the lookout terrace into a misty drizzle. I walked around the dome, marveling at the architecture, the sprawling city, and the people below.

Leaving the building, I looked back to the inscription of Christ's words:

"Ego Sum Via, Veritas et Vita" (I am the way the truth and the life), John 14.6.

Yes, this is why we light candles.