...in it, and of it

I want to walk as a child of the light; I want to follow Jesus.

God set the stars to give light to the world; the star of my life is Jesus.

In Him there is no darkness at all; the night and the day are both alike.

The Lamb is the light of the city of God: Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.

---Kathleen Thomerson, 1966

This text deals with the duality of light, peculiar to religious expression. In the faith view of Christianity, Jesus is a light out front of us, to guide us in the right path. This light guides both our belief and our everyday action, leading us to consider the quality of Jesus’ light to form our own quality of life.

But there is a second aspect to the light that is Jesus. That light exists not only outside of us, to guide, but abides to light our inner lives. Jesus lives and works in the world, but also lives and works in our hearts, both beckoning and urging. This light guides our steps, and illuminates our souls. We are in the light, and made of it.

I want to walk as a child of the light.

...stay with me

Go to dark Gethsemane, you who feel the tempter's power;
your Redeemer's conflict see; watch with Him one bitter hour;
turn not from His griefs away; learn of Jesus Christ to pray.
--- James Montgomery, 1822

They went to a place, a garden, Gethsemane; 
and Jesus said to his friends, 
"I need you. Stay here with me while I pray."
He took some of those dearest to him, 
and his distress and heartache became evident.
He said to these beloved,
"My heart is breaking; how can I go on?
draw close, abide, with me, sit up a while with me now."
---Mark 14:32-34 (para. laca)

Stay. Just stay here with me. While I wrestle with my destiny. While I stare into what looks an awful lot like an abyss. While I question this whole crazy ride we've been on together the past few years. While I wonder if the voice I heard was the voice of God, or just some voice in my head, telling me things I wanted to, needed to hear. While I decide whether to walk away from the whole deal. Whether to blend into the Passover crowd, wander back to the Galilee, pick up a hammer and nail, and become just another dusty craftsman, like my father before me. Let the idea of some beckoning Father fade away into distant memory, let someone else save the world.

God. What am I supposed to do now?

Friends, stay with me.

...here I linger

Open my eyes to your ways,
set my feet on the paths you clear.
Beckon me with truth, help me learn,
for you are my saving Way:
here I linger until you lead.
---Psalm 25:4-5 (para. laca)

Linger. Stay. Abide. Wait. How hard is this for you? How long are you willing to wait? How long before you begin to fidget, doodle, fuss, daydream, grumble, toe-tap, throat-clear, or whine? Does it depend on what you are waiting for? How special does it have to be for you to wait patiently? What if you are not sure at all what you are awaiting? What if you are waiting for something you hope for, that you pray you will recognize when it happens?

As we wait in this holy season, how do we sit in our uncertainty? Do we wait in expectation? Trepidation? Do we wait hungering and thirsting to be filled? Searching for a true north? Dare we wait in a silent void, with no voices, no flashing arrows, no yellow brick road? Shall we wait 40 days, while other voices whisper to us from other hills, while the yellow eyes of desert creatures shine unblinking in the night?

Here I linger, until you lead...