“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death, a light has dawned.” (Isaiah 9:2)
I have the wonderful job of waking up a middle schooler for school. Every morning at 6:15, I open my eldest daughter’s door and step in. At the sound of the handle, she immediately coils up, pulls the blankets over her head, and buries herself in her pillows. It is so cozy in there, so comfortable. Attempting to be a nice mom, I’ll go over, scratch her back, and say something cheesy like, “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.”
Each morning is a little different. I’ve engineered a Star Wars wake-up, an alligator wake-up, and a couple of regular morning songs. And then, of course, there is the “wake-up antler.” But after the fun and games signal that it’s officially time to get up, I walk to the door and flip the switch. If the blankets weren’t over her head before, they are now.
That first flash of light in the darkness can be brutal. Even as adults, we squint, cover our faces, and groan—we are just not ready for it. Sudden light requires an adjustment; it forces a moment of transition. The dark is cozy, predictable, and comfortable, which means facing the light can actually hurt. But we still need it.
Isn’t that just like life?
Are there parts of myself that I intentionally keep in the dark? Have I allowed my life to become entirely focused on comfort and consistency? When the light exposes those areas, it can resurface old pain or bring unexpected embarrassment. It drags us right out of our cozy blankets of self-preservation. Sometimes, I find myself wanting to recoil and resist the growth at hand, trying to convince myself that it’s just easier to stay in the dark.
But staying under the covers doesn’t make it right. We have to wake up and face the light, because a comfortable darkness ultimately leads nowhere. Jesus came to bring light to those exact hidden places—not to expose us, but to free us.
So, I choose to embrace the light. I’ll take the change, the awakening, the vulnerability, and the stretch. Whatever the light reveals, I am running toward it. I trust in the One who has overcome the darkness, and I rest in the promises of the One who created the light—and who is the Light.
Leave a Reply