There’s a light post outside the home where I grew up in Franklin, Tennessee. The light was always a nuisance. It shined so bright, a never fainting yellow and orange glow that was as reliable as a young heart beat you would never expect to stop beating – this light never stopped shining. Night after night, it would illuminate, triggered by the darkness. That little light annoyed me because it stood directly outside by bedroom and was nearly eye level with the window. There are even family jokes about that light, it has been referred to as “the sun” just because of how obnoxiously bright it was always penetrating right through my window at all hours of the night. The sun made it impossible to sleep some nights and I would curse it from my bed.
Now I’m older. And I noticed something over the last two years when parking my car in the driveway or walking outside into the cul-de-sac late at night. The light ceases to come on and breathe that same glow out onto the pavement that it once did not so long ago. And almost strangely, I miss it. Perhaps it’s because I no longer occupy the bedroom that it used to invite itself into every night. But I look at that little light and I think somehow, I miss it for something more than what it is. Perhaps I miss it for what it represents.
Seasons of darkness have been encountered in life as of late. There has no doubt been brilliant light that has shined from and through them. I am grateful for the light from God that watches over me and lights my paths. I look at that light now and I think, won’t you just turn back on? Won’t you just illuminate my old bedroom window again? Won’t you just bring life and light, no matter how unwanted late at night, to this home I grew up in once again?
In Batman, there’s the bat signal that shines upon the night sky to call for Gotham’s watchful protector. It is a universal symbol. It is the dark knight’s mark. The enemies fear it; the good guys desperately need it but don’t fully understand it. Maybe this light outside my house is something like that. I want it to shine again and light up the places that have seemed to dim in my life. I want God’s favor to burn brightly upon my family’s home and for him to restore light to areas where it feels like there used to be more.
Time moves unwarrantedly fast without permission. What was once something that drove me crazy outside my window now reminds me of the hope that light brings. I plead with it to shine once more. I long to see it light up the driveway, the window over the garage and the asphalt where the basketball goal sits on the gutter. And while this light may or may not come back on physically – God’s light will never fail to shine on me or my family’s lives. Spiritual light surrounds me and my circumstances. I am protected and loved by the true watcher of my soul, the caretaker of my heart. I am in need of no Batman. I have Jesus. Better yet, I need no signal to hit the sky for him to answer – He and the Holy Spirit live inside me.
Thank you, God, that even though some lights may go out and pain may ensue, you have not forsaken me or left me in the darkness. Thank you for teaching me to appreciate that little light. Thank you for your unyielding light that is more powerful than darkness.
I will not attempt here to “fix” the hard dark seasons experienced or move on too quickly without honoring the pain, fear, anger and sadness I feel by neatly wrapping up this writing about that little light. I speak of God’s goodness and his triumph over the darkness. I appreciate his never-failing love and pursuit of me and my family. All at the same time, I feel what I am encountering, I recognize and live in the place I am in that is often disheartening and full of discomfort and heart aches.
Come on little light, won’t you turn back on?
And if you won’t – maybe it is not God’s will. Maybe my prayer, my ask, should not be for the light to turn back on, but for Jesus to bring light where that old lamp post has failed me. I need – and we need – new light to be ushered in that cannot be put out by age, fatigue, or human error. We need the light of the Son of Man who when He shines causes darkness to squeal and hide, shadows to retreat and goodness to be revealed in every intention. We need Jesus to bring a new light about us. That little light, while I have longed for it figuratively to show itself again, is not needed anymore. Our family needs a new light that was meant to last. A light that can sustain us beyond the constructs of time. A light everlasting. Jesus, you are the light of the world. Won’t you be the light of my home?