“And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.”
–Genesis 1:3
Light… I admit that it’s something that, up until the past
month or so, I haven’t spent a great amount of time thinking about. I’ve never really been a fan of the
dark. I’ve been a little afraid of the
dark since I was a little girl and one of my life mottos has been “bad things
happen in the dark.” But I guess I’ve also never really thought a lot about the
light that extinguishes that dark. There
are light switches scattered throughout my house. If the darkness ever gets to be too much, or
if I can’t see where I’m going, all I have to do is extend my hand and simply
flip on a switch. Easy enough. There’s light. Also, the sun has come up every day of my
life, with no exception, and with no doing of mine. No matter how dark the night, the sun always
rises.
For the past eight months, once a week, I’ve had the privilege of meeting with my sweet friend, Lisa.
We study God’s Word together. We
dig deep into God’s Word and hash out the hard stuff. We talk about difficulties in our lives and
we rejoice together over the joys that God scatters throughout our paths. We pray together. We pray together every week, with no
exception. There have been a couple of
weeks that it didn’t work out for us to physically meet and pray, so we prayed
over the phone instead. We’ve prayed
together every week for the past eight months. And this is one of the biggest blessings in my
life. And lately, Lisa and I have had
numerous discussions about “light.”
We’ve prayed that God’s light would shine so brightly that
it would take away every shadow of darkness.
Several times Lisa has made mention of picturing a light so blindingly
bright that even the dark corners were illuminated. A light so bright that darkness can’t even
exist. This is the picture that has been
in Lisa’s head.
And I’ve been a little slower about seeing that really
bright light. It’s not all darkness. I
can see some light- just not as bright as Lisa. One day I thought I had it though. I sent her a picture of a keyhole. Light was shining through the keyhole. I thought it was a beautiful picture.
Lisa humored me. She
told me that it was a really neat picture, but that it just wasn’t the light
that she was picturing and praying for.
I told her that maybe the light that she could see was just on the other
side of the door, and until I could get that big door open, maybe I could just
see the blinding light through that little keyhole. That made all of the sense in the world to
me. And I think it made sense to her a
little bit too.
A few weeks later I sent her another picture of “light.” It
was of a forest, with really tall trees and beautiful, vibrant green leaves.
The sun was shining through those tall trees and the beauty of the light was
gorgeous. This was it! I sent her the picture of this bright forest,
excited. I couldn’t wait to hear her
response. I couldn’t wait to hear her
say, “yes! Kendra! That’s it!”
Except that’s not what she said. She said “it’s still not the blindingly
bright light that I picture, but it’s brighter than the keyhole from before.” And I felt a little disappointed. Not in her answer, but just in the fact that
I couldn’t seem to “see” a light as blindingly bright as she was
picturing. I wanted to see that
light. I wanted to believe that there
was a light that was really so bright that darkness couldn’t even exist. So I kept praying. And I kept trying to picture it. And Lisa kept assuring me that I would get
there, and that I would see that light.
Then Friday morning, I was on an airplane. I was traveling out of town with my husband
to celebrate our 10th anniversary.
I was sitting in the window seat, and looking out the window as our
plane took off. I watched as the
buildings, and the lakes, and the trees and the roads and the cars below us got
smaller and smaller and smaller… until we hit the clouds. And when we hit the clouds, all I could see
was LIGHT. Bright light. Blinding light, so bright that I almost had
to shut the window shade because it was so bright that I couldn’t see
anything.
Anything. But. Light.
That was it. It was
radiant. It was illuminating. It was blinding. And it was breath-taking.
Not only was the light breath-taking. But it was also just breath-taking that I saw
it. I got it. I understood.
And I saw it. And when I saw it I
almost had to close my eyes because it was so bright that I couldn’t even look
at it. It was light. There it was.
So the rest of my flight, I thought about light. And I also thought a little bit about
Lisa. And about how Matthew 5:14 says, “You
are the light of the world. A town built
on a hill cannot be hidden.” And then about how, just two verses later, God’s
Word says, “In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may
see your good deeds and glorify your Father in Heaven.”
I thought about how ironic (or maybe amazing is a better
word than ironic, here) it was that this lady who has so boldly prayed for
light to shine in darkness and for me to see that light… is light.
And if you know Lisa, you’ve seen that light too. I’m sure of it.
Today, on Lisa’s birthday, I’m thankful for that light. And I’m thankful that she shows me HIS
LIGHT. And I’m thankful that she prays
every day for light to shine in darkness.
And I’m just thankful God made her.
Because of her light, I can better see His light.
Keep shining, my sweet friend.
"... in Your light, we will see light." Psalm 36:9
(I love this picture that Paxton took with my cell phone one morning while Lisa and I sat and prayed at her kitchen table. Most would have deleted it. But I loved it. My sweet friend, shining light into my life, praying with me and investing in me.)
