Learning To Be the Light

As part of Lamplighters Bible Study, I will be sharing my own stories. Prompted by the weekly Scripture from Genesis and led by the Holy Spirit, I will share as we go and invite you to do the same. Each week after doing the inductive portion of the study– the lessons are available online– I’ll set my timer for 20 minutes and write the story on my heart.

From Genesis: Tell Me the Story
Lesson 1 (Genesis 1:1 – 2:3)

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A popular song comes on the radio as the Littles haul backpacks and tired bodies into the mini-van after school.

“Mom, can you turn it up?” requests a voice from the back of the car. I adjust the volume straining to make out the lyrics over the afternoon banter and bickering bouncing back and forth from the four filled seats.

“We sang this song in chapel today. It’s one of my favorites,” my son says.

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one. Who sings it?” I still can’t hear the song.

“I donno, but listen to the words, Mom. You’ll like it.”

 

If my life had a soundtrack, Learning to be the Light by Newworldson would be amongst the dozen or so songs I would choose.

I remember when life was formless, and empty. And darkness was over the deep waters. I guess I always knew the Spirit of God was hovering about, waiting for me, beckoning me with a gentle voice. But, I couldn’t hear the voice of the One calling—singing to me—through the din of my boisterous life. And, so I endured the dark, obstreperous dwelling. And so He hovered. And hovered. Until one day, like a seed bursting forth from the black soil of the fertile earth I caught my first glimpse of light.

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. Genesis 1:3

He proclaimed it so for all creation. For me. All of creation includes me. I struggle to grasp the enormity of this truth.

God’s very first words call forth light in the midst of primeval darkness. His story begins with wonder and awe and immediately I’m captivated, drawn into the familiar narrative every time as if it was the first. Unable to comprehend the magnitude of his activity, he provides images like an artist brushing strokes of light and darkness, giving order to the surface of the canvas. In this vast canvas of creation, my story exists. Interwoven into his narrative, my own stories take shape. Confusion and darkness replaced by structure and light.

In the early morning during prayer, I write the words spoken softly to my heart:

Brighten up the world by reflecting who I AM.

It’s hard to be the light. I don’t know how. Fear, worry, selfishness and insecurity shroud the flame. But I remember the darkness and how much brighter the living is now. I praise Him for the darkness of his creation, and for the light. I worship a Maker who knows that one could not exist without the other.

I end my morning prayer with gratitude for my story being revealed in small bite sized portions, savoring what I’m given daily. As I close my journal, I make note to thank my son for sharing the song Learning To Be the Light. He’s right, I like it very much.

Love,