Your testimonies are wonderful, therefore my soul keeps them. The unfolding of Your words gives light. It imparts understanding to the simple. I open my mouth and pant, because I long for Your commandments. Turn to me and be gracious to me, as is Your way with those who love Your name. Keep steady my steps according to Your promise, and let no iniquity get dominion over me. Redeem me from man's oppression, that I may keep Your precepts. May Your face shine upon Your servant, and teach me Your statutes. My eyes shed streams of tears, because people do not keep Your law. (Verses 129-136)
On Thursday, August 14, 2003, Heather, her baby son, Nicholas, and I were on our way to Penn Station in downtown New York City pushing a stroller and dragging our luggage as we hailed a cab. We were going back to Alexandria, Virginia, after a few days of enjoying the city for our joint birthday celebration. Suddenly, the cab driver noticed that all the signal lights weren't working. "That's odd," said Heather. Then she noticed all the neon signs that normally light up the many shops were also dark. "Must be an electrical failure of some sort." Not worried, though, about Penn Station.
The taxi dumped us and all our stuff out at the station and drove off. We couldn't shake the ominous feeling that all looked a bit too dark inside. It was after four in the afternoon. The electricity to the entire city was completely out. Our ride home was going to be delayed. So, we went outside to mill around with every passenger waiting for a train. It was far too dark and far too hot to sit inside. Still almost ninety degrees outside, and muggy. We sat sweating, thinking any minute the electricity would come back on and we'd be on our way. It was dark before we knew for sure that we weren't going anywhere that night. New York City was black by the time we started trying to find our way back to the Marriott where we'd stayed the night before. The blackness panicked New Yorkers. It felt, by then, like another terrorist attack. People began streaming across the bridge and out of harm's way. We, stroller, luggage and all, walked alone in the dark. The very dark. It's hard to describe how black it was because the enormous buildings also closed in on us, blocking stars and moon. No flashlight. Only Heather's great navigation skills (I get lost easily). We were so relieved when we saw, way up in the distance, a tiny light, possibly from a generator, guiding our path. Giving us at least a destination to aim for. Light for our way. Desperate to get off the streets, not knowing what lurked in the crevices of the locked down businesses or in the alleys we kept passing. Desperate for guidance to a safe place. We needed some illumination.
That's what God's Word does for our path in this dark world. Opens up a road that's safe and purposeful. Like Heather, Nicolas and me, the world gropes blindly toward a non-specific goal because they can't see the Truth. They bump into those of us who know Jesus from time to time. Crash into the Light and share our illumination for the moment. We who used to walk in dark are now light, not only a beacon for those searching but a revealer of things done in the dark. So we either rescue or intimidate. At one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of the light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret. But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible for anything that becomes visible is light (Ephesians 5).
That's why the unfolding of the Word is wonderful to us. It lightens the path more and more. No longer do we need to shuffle around trying to figure out where to go and what to do. Our path is illumined, and it's so much easier to walk in the light! I yearn for more. Maybe not panted in the physical sense, but surely in my heart. Hungry and thirsty to know my God better, because the more I know about Who He is and what He desires, the brighter things become for me. God's shining face is my ultimate destination, alit with the joy of His love for and favor toward me. It's why I don't want to go astray. Don't want the dominion of darkness any more. If I keep my eyes focused on that face, I won't be looking for the thrills some find in the darkness. They die out there, alone. Wandering around, always needing more and more of their particular addiction to hide the fact that they are wandering blind.
The light we saw that black night was coming from a generator in the Marriott. Full now with people clambering for escape from the darkness. There was nourishment, too. The restaurant chef set up a buffet of all the food that would spoil in the refrigerator and gave it to us free. The dim lighting was a refuge as we crammed our luggage between the hundreds of people and found a space on the floor. Drawn to the hotel like moths to a flame, we weren't the only ones who needed to see in order to be safe. The Marriott was a haven for the lost that night because the light was on. May ours be, also. A haven. May I light up any room into which I walk. Not with any earthly attribute, but with the joy of knowing the indwelling Spirit of the God of All Who permeates the darkest regions of our souls and floods them with the light of His Word. His little light bulb reflecting my Father's glory.
"You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father, Who is in heaven." Jesus. Matthew 5
On Thursday, August 14, 2003, Heather, her baby son, Nicholas, and I were on our way to Penn Station in downtown New York City pushing a stroller and dragging our luggage as we hailed a cab. We were going back to Alexandria, Virginia, after a few days of enjoying the city for our joint birthday celebration. Suddenly, the cab driver noticed that all the signal lights weren't working. "That's odd," said Heather. Then she noticed all the neon signs that normally light up the many shops were also dark. "Must be an electrical failure of some sort." Not worried, though, about Penn Station.
The taxi dumped us and all our stuff out at the station and drove off. We couldn't shake the ominous feeling that all looked a bit too dark inside. It was after four in the afternoon. The electricity to the entire city was completely out. Our ride home was going to be delayed. So, we went outside to mill around with every passenger waiting for a train. It was far too dark and far too hot to sit inside. Still almost ninety degrees outside, and muggy. We sat sweating, thinking any minute the electricity would come back on and we'd be on our way. It was dark before we knew for sure that we weren't going anywhere that night. New York City was black by the time we started trying to find our way back to the Marriott where we'd stayed the night before. The blackness panicked New Yorkers. It felt, by then, like another terrorist attack. People began streaming across the bridge and out of harm's way. We, stroller, luggage and all, walked alone in the dark. The very dark. It's hard to describe how black it was because the enormous buildings also closed in on us, blocking stars and moon. No flashlight. Only Heather's great navigation skills (I get lost easily). We were so relieved when we saw, way up in the distance, a tiny light, possibly from a generator, guiding our path. Giving us at least a destination to aim for. Light for our way. Desperate to get off the streets, not knowing what lurked in the crevices of the locked down businesses or in the alleys we kept passing. Desperate for guidance to a safe place. We needed some illumination.
That's what God's Word does for our path in this dark world. Opens up a road that's safe and purposeful. Like Heather, Nicolas and me, the world gropes blindly toward a non-specific goal because they can't see the Truth. They bump into those of us who know Jesus from time to time. Crash into the Light and share our illumination for the moment. We who used to walk in dark are now light, not only a beacon for those searching but a revealer of things done in the dark. So we either rescue or intimidate. At one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of the light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret. But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible for anything that becomes visible is light (Ephesians 5).
That's why the unfolding of the Word is wonderful to us. It lightens the path more and more. No longer do we need to shuffle around trying to figure out where to go and what to do. Our path is illumined, and it's so much easier to walk in the light! I yearn for more. Maybe not panted in the physical sense, but surely in my heart. Hungry and thirsty to know my God better, because the more I know about Who He is and what He desires, the brighter things become for me. God's shining face is my ultimate destination, alit with the joy of His love for and favor toward me. It's why I don't want to go astray. Don't want the dominion of darkness any more. If I keep my eyes focused on that face, I won't be looking for the thrills some find in the darkness. They die out there, alone. Wandering around, always needing more and more of their particular addiction to hide the fact that they are wandering blind.
The light we saw that black night was coming from a generator in the Marriott. Full now with people clambering for escape from the darkness. There was nourishment, too. The restaurant chef set up a buffet of all the food that would spoil in the refrigerator and gave it to us free. The dim lighting was a refuge as we crammed our luggage between the hundreds of people and found a space on the floor. Drawn to the hotel like moths to a flame, we weren't the only ones who needed to see in order to be safe. The Marriott was a haven for the lost that night because the light was on. May ours be, also. A haven. May I light up any room into which I walk. Not with any earthly attribute, but with the joy of knowing the indwelling Spirit of the God of All Who permeates the darkest regions of our souls and floods them with the light of His Word. His little light bulb reflecting my Father's glory.
"You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father, Who is in heaven." Jesus. Matthew 5
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