“LIGHTS” Luke yelled and pointed from his seat in Makah’s lap. (Make-ah= the way the first grandchild said grandma…and it stuck.)
I eased to a stop in the middle of the road and listened to the kids oooh and ahhhh at the Christmas lights along the street.
“MICK-MUSS” two year old Luke yelled again. The bigger than life Mickey Mouse lit up the night in front of a big brick house.
The kids giggled.
Street after street we eased along past, Frosty The Snowman, Rudolph, Santa, Reindeer and lights of every color, mostly red and green and white. At every Nativity Scene I’d stop a little longer than any of the others.
When the excitement settled and one was thirsty and another had to go…we turned toward home. That’s when I saw it; the brightest, biggest light of them all.
It hung higher than all the others. Only, it wasn’t really a light. In and of itself, it was dark, yet tonight, it lit up the night.
“Look at that.”
“The moon” I pointed toward the eastern sky.
The ooohs and ahhhs started again.
I smiled. When the chatter slowed I started to explain how the moon had no light, it was dark, but it shined so bright because—
“It reflects the sun, Papa.”
That was a few days ago, but tonight, as I sit here in the dark, I’m remembering that moon.
So many things in the world—and, my world—are dark.
Sleep won’t come.
I think about that moon. How it was the same one that hung over another dark and not so silent night. How on that night the very Light that hung the moon slipped into the skin of a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes in a manger. I think of how that Babe grew up to say things like, “I AM the Light of the world.”
I believe that. HE changed the world. HE changed my world. HE is the Light of the world…that’s easy to believe. But, He also said, things hard to believe, like: “You, are the light of the world.”
Who was He talking about? His disciples—absolutely. Billy Graham—sure. But me? He couldn’t have been talking about me? How could He? I have too many faults. I’ve failed far too miserably. I’m too weak …I have, too much dark.
I remember the moon…and the words, “It reflects the sun, Papa.” I feel a glimmer of Light, of Hope.
Lord, in and of myself there is no light, I’m dark. Yet, I find hope, in You, The Light of the world, my world. And as the moon reflects the sun…I pray, I too, will reflect The Son.
This then is the message which we have heard of him, and declare unto you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all (1 John 1:5)
Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. (James 1:17)