“Veil after veil of thin dusky gauze is lifted, and by degrees the forms and colours of things are restored to them, and we watch the dawn remaking the world in its antique pattern” ~Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray.

There is something indescribably beautiful about light beginning to touch the darkness. Something precious lives in the moments when half of a tree’s branches are shrouded in golden light and the others, still in the night’s darkness, quiver with anticipation for their turn to come.

Slowly the sun passes over them. Or rather, it passes into them, transforming them from creatures of night into creatures of day and of light.

Out of my northern facing bedroom window I can see the light on the trees as it spreads from one side of the tree to another, reaching out to the branches that are still surrounded in darkness.

As the tiny patch of sun gets bigger and starts to grace the side of the tree closest to me, it seems to promise, as Tolkien did in The Lord of the Rings, that there is yet “high beauty and light forever beyond [the] reach [of the shadow]”.

This truth was shown to Samwise Gamgee in the very darkest part of Middle Earth. And it is shown to us, as the world around us, and often the world in us, quakes under the weight of the Shadow. The dark thing.

And, would you believe it? The light–the pure golden light–radiates a beauty in the darkness that redeems even the shadows.

About three years ago I read a book by Madeline L’Engle called A Ring of Endless Light. In the story Vicky, the main character, is hit by the sorrow and shadow of the world. It crashes into her like the waves of the ocean. L’Engle described Vicky’s questions and struggles in such a real, relatable way that mirrored many of my own questions and struggles. I too see the darkness. I finished the book, with more questions than answers, questions about why the world is so hurt and wrong, and how we are supposed to live in it.

L’Engle, as many other authors have also done, made me search for the answer and cry out to God about it, in a way I might not have done if she had given a straight answer.

Sometimes, God doesn’t give us clear answers. Sometimes, all He tells us to do is seek Him. To go to God. So many times that is the answer that I am given. It’s not the answer that I usually want. But it is the answer that often has to come first.

When You said to me, “Seek My face”, my heart said to You, “Your face O Lord I shall seek”. Do not hide your face from me, do not turn your servant away in anger. You have been my help, do not abandom me nor forsake me, O God of my salvation.

Psalm 27:8-9

Seeking is a beautiful thing. It is also a very hard thing. It must be cold for the trees, waiting for the morning light to ease the frost from their branches. Some nights must feel so long. But how good it must be when the dawn touches the faces of the trees, as if to whisper,

“The night watch is finished, enter into day.”

Psalm 97:11 says that light is sown like seed for the righteous (and gladness for the upright in heart).

I imagine light as a tiny seed; placed into the dark earth, surrounded by soil, tiny in its light, unseen by most of the world. I see it waiting as the soil around it slowly, slowly responds to its tiny presence. I picture it spreading it’s first roots into the soil. Step by tiny step, a miracle grows. Days and weeks go by as the light grows, and then, when the time is right, its cotyledons push their way out of the soil.

Light has been prayed for, toiled over, watched, and hopefully waited for. Like seed, it grows. And it is sown by the One who planted the first redwoods and ferns and wild violets. Light sown like seed for the righteous.

And I think of Jesus when He first took on flesh and dwelt among us… So much light was contained in one tiny, perfect human. Light, radiating in that dirty stable. Light, hidden but growing in Egypt and in the town of Nazareth. Light spilling life into the world as He spilled His blood and tears and love. The light of the world, the Light that was life before the sun was ever created.

This Light, is sown like seed for the righteous. This Light, sown like seed for the people who could never be righteous on their own. This Light, sowing seeds of righteousness in the hearts of those who look to Him for salvation.

And, one day, this Light shall make the sun and moon and stars unnecessary, in that City where the Light is preparing a place for us, interceding for us, still sowing light like seed (Isaiah 60:19-20).

Do not loose heart if you are waiting in the dark before dawn. And if you do loose heart, find comfort in knowing that Jesus did not. He went through the deepest darkness that the greatest evil in this world has to offer. He did it willingly, that He might conquer it forever. He did, oh, for He has the power of indestructible life (Hebrews 7:16)! And take heart, oh faint hearted warrior, for if you belong to Christ, then you are His, transferred from the domain of darkness into the kingdom of the beloved Son (Colossians 1:13). Sons of light and sons of day (1 Thessalonians 5:5). And He promises to make perfect us. Oh friends, how beautiful He is!

If you do not belong to Christ, or don’t know what it really means to belong to Christ, it is as simple as knowing that your heart is in darkness and you need someone to take it away. And trusting in Jesus, the Light of the world, to shine His light into your heart. He died for you, that He might change your heart and make you whole, that you might live in light. Ask Him to show you who He is, to forgive you, and change your heart. He will. It is simple, as simple as “Yes, Jesus”, but it is the most earth shaking, beautiful, perfect, thing that there is.

“Is all creation groaning? It is.

Is a new creation coming? It is.

Is the glory of the Lord to be the light within our midst? It is.”

~Andrew Peterson

Thank you for reading this rambling about light and Jesus. 🙂 May reminders of light and love touch your week.