I heard the storm in the night. It had been raining constantly for several days, and God topped off this deluge with a magnificent storm, that shook the oak trees beside my window, lit up the drawn curtains with flashes of lightening, and kept my eyes open into the night with the rolls of thunder. This morning when I awoke, I walked outside onto the deck in brilliant sunshine, and the trees, covered in new spring leaves, the still river in the distance, and the very light itself, looked washed clean. I said to God, ‘the whole earth looks new in your light!’, and He led me to this passage:
When Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he left Judea and returned home to Nazareth in Galilee; but soon he moved to Capernaum, beside the Lake of Galilee, close to Zebulun and Naphtali. This fulfilled Isaiah’s prophecy:
“The land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, beside the lake, and the countryside beyond the Jordan River, and Upper Galilee where so many foreigners live—there the people who sat in darkness have seen a great Light; they sat in the land of death, and the Light broke through upon them.”
Standing in the light this morning I also felt the lifting of a burden I had been carrying a very long time, sometimes lightly, while other times it crushed me. ‘Was this a message Lord? How the storms wash our eyes clear and give us a fresh new perspective. That there is purpose in the rain, and the wind. The trees lose the branches that were ready to fall, the earth is given new much needed nourishment, and the sunlight becomes a gift we would not have valued without its absence.’
“…and the light broke through upon them”. Ahh what beautiful words, what an incredible promise.
A poem I had written a few days earlier:
I believe, it is
the wounded things that are
the most beautiful.
And that we break open to the light,
because nothing is meant to remain inside.
Sorrow is but a well of understanding.
Chaos but a path to new revelation.
Pain a pearl that shows us where it hurts,
so that the light may trace
the ache to its source.
I believe, it is
that the weak receive
the strength they truly need.
As dependence brings us
to a full and deep surrender.
Shame is but a robe we must discard.
Guilt, another’s pain breaking our hearts.
Remorse, a path to redeem our tortured selves.
And as weakness girds our prayers with heavenly power,
the light reveals the darkness as a fraud.
And so I believe it is,
when love breaks in.