It's all about the Light

One thing about this time of year.

You haven’t missed the glorious dawn although you’re not out walking until 8 am. This morning, the sky was streaked with red in the east, while in the south a setting crescent moon winked at me.

The farm just to the north of us lay hidden amongst tall trees. At first, I only knew it was there because I knew it was there. And then, as I walked on, I saw the glimmering lights from the farm house shining between the tall trees. 

It made me think about the light within me, the light of Christ. How often is that light obscured by a stand of ‘trees’ which I’ve planted round my heart, sheltering it from hurt and disappointment?  How many people do I meet each day who have no idea that Jesus, the Light of the World, lives inside of me? 

I want to chop down any trees that obscure the light. That is my prayer today. To give the Light of the World a clear path to those who walk in darkness.

Natural Classroom

 When I awoke, a pall of grey cloud had settled above the land around Barehillock, seeping drizzle onto field and grass. I lingered rather longer than usual over breakfast, and by the time I emerged to walk Dusty there was a rift in the grey. A glow of soft white light was revealed, beyond the clouds. It continued to emerge as we walked.

We walked down the avenue of trees, Dusty poking her nose into every bush and bramble. I paused to wait for her, turning towards the thick stand of pine trees. I could glimpse light through the far side of the woods, where two or three trees grew at weird angles. Another few steps, and when I repeated the turn, there was no sign of light through the trees, just deep darkness.

It all depended on my perspective, whether or not I could glimpse light on the other side of the trees. I was free to choose where to stand when I looked at them. 

Sometimes problems crowd in like that thick stand of trees, and whether or not I am overwhelmed by the problems may well depend on where I position myself when I look at them. If I can’t see any light, maybe I need to move my own position a little, and look again.

Other times, problems sit on me like that pall of grey cloud. I have no power to alter anything, because wherever I stand, the pall remains solid. Then, I need to wait and trust, knowing that the source of light above the cloud is still there, and when the time is right, the cloud will lift, or break up, or blow away, and hope will be renewed.

Amazing, the lessons in nature.