Into the Light
Pulling myself into consciousness, I fumble around to turn off my daily alarm. Routinely I go to the kitchen to start the coffee; my heart asks Papa God this question: “What do you want me to declare today with my words Lord?” With all the fears of COVID-19, I know enough negative words are swirling around. I want to speak heaven’s words.
Quieting my heart and listening to what Holy Spirit is saying, I start interceding for my community/nation. Thinking of the difficult times we are living in today, I ask the Lord, “What is it that you would like to accomplish through your church – in such a time as this?” From this place, I nuzzle under HIS wings and read my scripture.
1 Peter 2:9
But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, so that you may declare the goodness of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.
“Lord, I want to proclaim your goodness authentically. Either with words or actions, I want to reflect your love for those around me. Papa, would you partner with me?” The warmness I feel in my heart lets me know that the Lord is with me.
Before I know it – it’s time to get around for work. Eager to see opportunities opening before me, I look to see with HIS lenses.
While working, I spontaneously receive a text: “Going to Bristol Mobile Village to hand out fliers for our meal box give-away. Would you like to come?”
“Oh my goodness, there it is – an opportunity!”
Not knowing much about this little community, upon arrival, I realize these people need God’s love. And today, I can be HIS hands and feet!
Knocking at each door, I’d step back from the entrance, respectfully social distancing at 6 feet away. Some residents peeked from behind their blinds to see who was knocking then pretend not to see me. That’s okay, Lord, encounter them with YOUR love; I would pray.
Then I knocked at ‘his’ door. The blanket hanging over the window moved to the side. I knew the person inside the mobile home saw me. Will he answer; or hide like others, asking myself the question. But as I heard each lock on the door unlatch, my heart was overwhelmed with humility. One, two, three locks were on this door. The man behind the door struggled to open it. “Do I help, or let him continue to struggle?” Unsure how to respond, I stood there, hoping my smiling eyes would be noticed since the mandatory mask covered my mouth.
The door opened ever so slightly. A frail-looking man peered at me nervously. I could tell his eyes had not experienced the sunlight for some time, as he squinted at me. I noted that his arms were tiny, and his face looked pale. Lack of nutrients or the lack of being outdoors? I was unsure of the answer. I greeted him and shared that meals will be handed out the following Thursday for children ages 4-18. Almost afraid to talk, he said, “Oh, no children live here.” And he closed the door.
My heart sunk. I wanted to engage with this man a little more. I wanted to let him know that he is loved and valued. I couldn’t help but think about the courage it took to open his door in the first place, let alone engage in an oh so brief conversation with me; suddenly, I was fighting tears.
Papa, it’s painful to see with your lenses. People are hurting and afraid. I want to do so much more for him, I thought to myself.
But then, this dropped in my heart. “My daughter – he came into the light. You carry My light. And for a brief moment, tormenting darkness fled him, and he felt my love. Thank you for doing this today. I knew I could trust you to share me with him.”
That moment, and his face, is forever etched in my heart. And I lift this man in my prayers. Maybe, just maybe him opening the door to me will begin his journey of walking into HIS Light.
