Just Write: The Light Bearers

Bombs explode and with them, lives, too.

I hug the small and tall people in my house a little tighter and wonder how I can send them out day by day into a world where such darkness stretches over the sky and spills out for miles across the horizon,

a storm of hurt and pain and terror brewing in the hearts of the hurting and bubbling over into explosion

after explosion

after explosion

born from the sheer force of pain.

Here's the thing about explosions  --

it's the force that takes us by surprise, leaves us stunned and battered and wounded.

But it's the aftermath of smoke that leaves us in despair, masks the light and sends us to our knees, groping around in the dark for something to hold onto, praying for clearing.

The first time I saw an explosion, eight years old and eyes wide, glued to the screen, my heart unleashed a fury of fear coated in tears.

The tender daughter of a firefighter watching a movie about fire-starters and exploders and the rescuers that rushed to the scenes of burning darkness was too much for my heart to bear, and I sobbed and sobbed, begged by dad to quit the business of extinguishing flames and storming burning buildings.

My father wrapped me in his thick arms and shushed my tears:

"If all the firefighters quit fighting fires because it was dangerous, think of how much more dangerous life would be."

At eight, I cared little for his few words, his waxing of logic to a weeping heart, but at 30 I hold them closer; at 30, I hold them as truth.

As long as there is pain, pockets of it will continue to explode, drench the day with darkness and coat the sky with ash, smoke that threaten to blind our eyes.

And that's when the Light bearers come in, blazing through the smoke and the darkness and setting it bright with hope.

We are the Light bearers carrying on the Light that was first born into the darkness of a black-ink sky stretched out over creation.

We are the Light bearers who don't fear the darkness because we know that the Sun always overcomes.

That's how we mothers, wives, sisters, friends find the courage and strength to send our loved ones back out into a world of explosions day in and day out --

we cling to the Sun, we embed the Light in their thoughts until it soaks deep into their bones, their hearts and then we send them out as light bearers who offer bright glows of Light when the darkness seems overwhelmingly dark.

{And we pray. And oh my ... this is so hard.}

Five-Minute Friday: Focus

There is soft gray smoke gently billowing from the chimney of my neighbor's house on a cool September morning, dancing beautifully as it rises.

It presses against blue sky, and I can see it rise amid the shadows of the still-green leaves on tall, thick trees.

But it fades quickly once it hits sunlight, and my focus is no longer on the intricacy of its dance, the gracefulness of its movement, the beauty of its rich color.

Instead my gaze is drawn to the strands of golden autumnal Light

and it rests there

in fullness

in gladness

in peace.



I whisper-pray, too, from behind the foggy window in my dining room

for this moment to spread, seep deep into my bones

so that in the steady movement of my own body

my own mind

my own heart

in the everydayness of life

would focus less on the dance performed in the shadows

and more on the radiant light into which the movement flows.

Just Write: A Light

In the heavy blanket of night, she hears him cry out for her.

She presses her feet to the floor and tight-rope walk the lines burned into her memory from the day's sun.

She fumbles through the blackness, coated thick like tar spread out over uneven ground beneath her feet, before she reaches him, sighs small relief before resigning again to slumber, closing her eyes to the darkness that spread out for miles and miles in Pignon, Haiti.

****

In the heavy blanket of night, I hear him cry out for me.

I press my feet to the floor and tight-rope walk the lines of light spilling from the soft shine of a bulb.

There is a glowing path in the darkness, and it gives me just enough to walk without fear through the spaces of post-dawn morning.

There's comfort found in those lines of light that I often take for granted when I flip that small switch. 

****


It only takes one little streak of light to break the cover of darkness.

I wonder if today you might be that little sliver of light?

For every new like Bright Hope International receives between now and May 31, one flashlight will be donated to a family in a village in Haiti without much light in the post-daytime hours.

Such a simple action, such a complex gift given.

A like for a light.

Be light today.

 
Disclosure: Our church supports ministry and missionaries in Pignon and this is an effort to aid the work already already being done in that community. Will you share the love?
 

'Twas the Write Before Christmas: Seek the Light

In the dawning of 6:30 in the morning, one set of preschooler feet rumbles down the staircase and taptaptapptaptap runs across chilly wood floors all in the excitement of making the Christmas tree dance with lights.

We snuggle on the couch, wiping sleep from morning eyes before migrating to the floor to build towers and the kitchen to make breakfast.

It glows all morning, through the rough and tumble and the cleaning and the getting ready for school

Don't turn it off, he exclaims, when I head over to press the button before we leave the house.

Let it stay glowing!

My boy, he is only four, but he seeks the light and we enter into it from eyes open until eyes closed; we bask in its brilliant beauty, its soft glow all gray day, long after I've spent time thumbing through well-worn pages of His story written out and unfolded.

And I think I could learn a thing or two.

All through December, we're working on making the heart merry and bright through creating. Join us?