Thoughts on a Gloomy Day
I’m sitting here in “sunny” California, where it’s been anything but. Foggy, gray days are typical for the Sacramento Valley, but I still don’t have to like them. As I was pondering this comparison of sunny vs. gray days, I came across this article by Dianne Bundt. Her article rerouted my focus from dreary to the light of the world. I want to share this spiritual shift with you.
Out of the Darkness
“I can never seem to get enough light in my house,” a friend lamented recently as we discussed her remodeling plans. I can empathize. I regularly yearn for more light–particularly sunlight. In fact, I can get downright greedy about it. Indirect sunlight at reasonable hours just won’t cut it; I want a house and work space where enormous patches of bright warmth flood the rooms from morning to night. Although we have more than 300 days of sun a year where I live, I grow grumpy at any forecast of clouds, and I am personally offended when autumn darkness begins creeping in at both ends of the day.
Recently, I’ve also experienced “sun cravings” on a spiritual level. Gloomy economic forecasts, changes and challenges at work, and personal, relational, and ministry concerns have left me feeling most days like I’m muddling around in the half-light. I long for someone to throw open the blinds so I can see where I am, where I need to go, and how best to get there. Perhaps that’s why, as I prepare for advent, I find particular comfort and delight in these descriptions of Jesus’ incarnation:
“In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness. . . . . The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world” (Jn. 1:4-5).
“The Sunrise from on high will visit us, to shine upon those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace” (Lk. 1:78-79, NASB).
I love imagining Jesus in these ways. I picture Him as a glorious sunrise, flooding light, truth, and grace wherever He went: into the dank corners of the stable where He was born; into the vast, lonely blackness of the wilderness; and into villages and the dusty, shadowed streets of Jerusalem. Even more, I love picturing Him pouring warm shafts of forgiveness, peace, and healing into the most hidden crevices of the hearts and lives of the people He encountered.
But I’m drenched with the greatest hope when I remember that Jesus is eager to bring that same healing illumination to the dark places in my life. So this Christmas, I’ve begun to invite Him, the glorious “Sunrise from on high,” to visit those spaces. “Jesus,” I pray, “shine the light of Your wisdom on this problem. Bring the light of Your hope into this impossible circumstance. Illuminate that stubborn habit lurking in the corner with Your grace and forgiveness.” I don’t know what the answers to these prayers will look like, but inviting Jesus into these areas has already brought deep comfort.
Are there places where you feel you’re walking around in darkness? Pockets of fear, confusion, uncertainty, doubt, unforgiveness, or sin? I pray the Light of the World would shine into those places this Christmas and guide your feet into the way of peace.
Dianne Bundt
Editor
DJ Online News
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