Light It Up

The blinking, strobe-like lights nearly blinded us inside our dark car. 

Every time they kicked their little feet together, a myriad of colorful lights illuminated the blackness surrounding us.  The girls were amazed and easily entertained with their new shoes.  Especially at night.   

The first time they tried them on, though, was in the middle of the afternoon.  Daylight covered the room, making it difficult to see their new shoes do what they were promised to do.  Our advice to them:  Go find some darkness and light it up. 

They raced to the bathroom.  Lights off.  Door closed.  Pitch black.  Each time they stomped their feet, jumped up and down, or took a step, the room lit up.  The path was made clear in front of them and they could see where they were going.

Four years ago to the date, I found myself in a very dark place. 

Stumbling around, trying to find my way, blinded by the eclipse that surrounded my heart, spirit and mind.

For whatever reason, this mammoth black cloud had descended upon me and I could not see.

Could not feel.  Could not breathe.  As much as I tried, I could not, for the life of me, catch even a shimmer of light because of the cloud's looming presence.

As the days passed, I became more and more desperate for light to return to my little world.

I tried to pray.  I tried to read.  I felt alone.  I felt numb. 

Then one day, I decided to write out every scripture I could find pertaining to light.  When I finally finished, a long list of truths stared back at me.  A multitude of promises from the Light of the world Himself.  He, who merely spoke the words, "Let there be light" and radiance ruptured the darkness, inviting Creation to come forth. 

As I sat on the sofa in the stillness of a cold, December morning, I gazed at the white lights covering our Christmas tree and prayed. 

I asked the Lord to send forth His light and His truth to guide me (Ps.43:3).
I asked that the darkness would pass and the true Light would shine (1 John 2:8).
Above all, I asked Him to turn my darkness into light (Ps. 18:28).

Piercing light shattered the darkness above me, ripping off the cloak of heaviness and replacing it with His garment of light (Ps. 104:2). 

Out of the brightness of His presence, the clouds advanced (Ps. 18:12) and I could see.  Clearly.  The burden lifted and my vision was restored.

This is the season of lights.   Lots of lights.  Everywhere. They cover all three of our Christmas trees. They are intertwined around the greenery draped across my fireplace mantle. They encircle the columns on my porch outside.   Every time we plug them in, the darkness is pierced by the warmth of the lights.

We, who like Saul on the road to Damascus, have been blinded by the bright love of Christ are witnesses to the true Light who came into the world as a baby thousands of years ago.  As we follow Him, He promises we will never walk in darkness, but have the light of life (John 8:12).

There may be many this Christmas season who are not basking in the light of the Son.  For whatever reason, self-inflicted or otherwise, they have found themselves groping around in the darkness, cold and alone.  They are desperate to find the light at the end of the tunnel, promising the hope of something better ahead. 

They need to see and know, so they can put their trust in the Light. 

But they may only be able to do so when we go find some darkness and light it up.