Reach for the Light

The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness! –Matthew 6:22-24

The day had stretched into the night and the burdens of the morning weighed heavy on my shoulders. I believe it is ourselves who set the pace for our day even when Satan attacks us furiously. There is that choice we have – be miserable or choose the light.

I lit a candle by the bed as the night cloaked my room. I found it hard to believe that darkness would weigh so heavily on my shoulders. After all, it’s only darkness. Yet it took me hostage. My mind tied my hands at the wrists and dragged me through the day’s events as though I were nothing, and my neck ached from the tension. The day had been long – too long. Worry and stress pressed me to the floor and panic enveloped me. I wanted free of it because it took my breath. I managed to pick up the candle and cup it in my hands, leaning close I watched as the flame died leaving only a flicker, only an ember.

The pressures of living nag at us from time to time. Life happens to us all. Just when things seem to be going fine we’re hit in the face with darkness. Satan loves the darkness and rejoices when he is able to find a way to pull the curtain over us, shade the light. He knows when our eyes cannot see our bodies feel cold and lost. We find ourselves on all fours grasping for anything that can offer us comfort, anything familiar.

You’ve heard it said that God never promised us an easy route, but He promised to remain faithful. The words do ring true. Keeping our eyes fixed firmly on the flame, even when it becomes an ember, is the redeeming hope we need when the day becomes darkness and the agony and weight take hold.

I remember playing in our attic as a child and dad flipped off the light. He didn’t know I was upstairs. It was such a darkness that I scooted on my stomach, patting my hands on the wooden planks, reaching into the blackness for the wall, and hoping not to slip off the two by fours. But when I caught a glimpse of the light from the kitchen seeping through the boards, things came into focus. The light doesn’t have to be bright it just has to be there.

When you feel the weight of darkness bear down, take hold of the hands that will pull you into the light. The Father waits for us to reach. Take hold.