Light in the Darkness

Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (John 8:12, ESV).

Last weekend, Murray and I went off-grid and camped by the beach on the East Coast of Tasmania. We could hear the waves crashing, walked sand into our RV and enjoyed a few sunny days trying to catch fish. In the evenings we sat by the campfire and chatted with new friends from campsites nearby, or sometimes just by ourselves, staring at the flames and the stars in turn.

As the sky went dark, far in the distance we could see the flashing light of a lighthouse, warning boats of the invisible coastline.

“It’s working; it’s not working. It’s working; it’s not working.” Murray chanted as the light shone brightly for a moment before disappearing into darkness once again.

Of course, we know the light is always working. It’s shining just as brightly as it turns, whether we can see it or not. It may appear to be ‘not working’ but the rhythm of on-and-off is an important part of the warning signal it sends.

How often do we think that something is not working when it is really just doing something we can’t see from our vantage point? We constantly make assumptions based on what we can see. We can’t help it. We can only see what we can see. But there is always more going on. There is always another side, where the dark is waiting for the light.

I know it’s true for me. I have shiny seasons where I am productive with my time, cheery in my disposition and taking leaps at achieving my goals. And I also have seasons when I need time to stare at the ocean, go to bed embarrassingly early, doodle, knit, read, watch TV and make up excuses to go for walks during the workday.

I need times of not working to make the working times possible. They go together. One feeds the other. It’s a cycle, like the turning light.

I am reminded to be kind to those around me who are in a season of not working. I can’t see what is happening on the other side. I don’t know where else they are shining their light. They may not be broken at all.

This reminds me of the lyric of a popular worship song:

Even when I don’t see it, You’re working
Even when I can’t feel it, You’re working
You never stop, You never stop working
You never stop, You never stop working

God is a way-maker, miracle worker, promise keeper and light in the darkness—even when we can’t see Him at work. He is still working. And while we are waiting, Jesus asks us to focus beyond what we can see.

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal (2 Corinthians 4:18, NIV).

God, give us eyes to see you at work, in our world and in our lives. And when we don’t see you—when we can’t feel you—I pray you would give us the faith to believe you are still at work, and the perseverance to hold on to your promises while we are waiting for the light to shine once again.

Amen