by Joy Lenton
I live mole-like with M.E-tired, sleep-deprived, hyper-sensitive eyes.
I’m shunning the limelight, well any light come to that.
Give me shadowy gloom, soft-lit lamps and subdued hues and I’m a happy bunny.
Life is way too bright for me.
Screens have to be turned low or I can’t look at them for long.
It hurts my eyes and swiftly saps the precious little energy I have.
And I wonder if my predilection points to a deeper soul situation.
Am I avoiding God’s penetrating gaze because it alerts me to my sin and shame?
Is it easier to turn away, hoping to remain unseen, or should I gather courage and face the music?
Or at least face up to my need of forgiveness, mercy, restoration and transformation.
Dare to brave the blaze of God’s face, seek out its penetrating rays.
Darkness can so often seem to be our friend as we gather its cloak of perceived invisibility around our shoulders.
Seek out its secret, covert covering.
We can become so accustomed to its womb-like welcome we forget we are meant to be children of light.
We can lose sight of how Light Himself bids us welcome, so used are we to drawing back.
What if.. we chose to lean toward the light?
Found it irresistible to our souls.
What if we sought it out like moth to flame?
Would our wings become singed?
Would we burn up in the heat of it?
Or maybe we would find that God’s light is unlike any other because its already been partly revealed to us in Jesus.
Fear may make us turn away, but in the seeking we discover how fears melt in its radiance.
There’s a warm benevolence here.
There’s a welcome beyond any we’ve known before.
We will find a shield and a covering for every dark circumstance we are in.
If we lean a little closer to God’s blinding light we will not be consumed, except by His love.
Our brokenness is broken into beauty.
Our shame made dust and ashes in the flame of sacred love.
Our guilt removed in the gilt that glitters brighter than anything.
Our pain is made bearable and healing made possible.
His searing light pierces our problems with grace beyond measure.
I may have an acquired aversion to brightness, but I’m learning how to live more fully in the light of God’s countenance.
And relax into its soothing embrace, enveloping like liquid honey.
Maybe you too can discover how healing it can be, how much your soul needs to bathe in its golden rays.
This Advent season might be one of the best times to try.
Because light is calling out to you and me, longing for us to see and sense its nearness.
With a brightness made beautiful in Jesus, the personified radiance of God Himself.
Are we ready to welcome the captivating Light of Life?