It's the Light

This far north, it’s all about the light.

As spring begins to burst forth in colours – the purples and golden hues of crocus, the mellower yellows of daffodils and the pure white of snowdrops – as it begins to burst forth in sound – the increase in birdsong is just amazing as they all seek out a mate for the year – as it begins to show itself in rising temperatures (except at night) – still, the best thing about the turning of the year towards summer is the return of the light.

Longer days. We’ve not shifted clocks around yet but already I’ve missed the dawn when I walk the dog and I can walk her again at 5.30 or 6 and it is still light. 

And it’s not just light. It’s the quality of the light. There is a golden hue to it somehow, a palpably refreshing tangibility to it which is hard to explain. Maybe it’s because we are emerging from the darkness, where there is a monotony of black and bleak.

Jesus declared himself the light of the world. He himself is light. Without him is only darkness.

Who would choose to live without him?