Come into the Light

Do any of you have a word for the year? I am not sure when this idea first gained popularity, but I have been discerning a special word for many years now. It is a word that may influence my decisions for the year and how I spend my time. It is a word that ideally comes through prayer and which shapes my goals and choices, trusting that God is using it to impart some portion of His will and grace.

My word for this year is transformation.

When I felt this word settle into my heart mid-way through January, I was both surprised and content. It felt right. YES, I said to the Lord, feeling both wary and excited. I longed to be transformed, but transformation could mean healing or it could also mean drastic change. It can bring beauty, but it can bring pain. I am still grieving so much, and I longed to learn to carry my grief with greater joy. I am trying to have no expectations, though. I will keep this word in my heart and in my prayer and yield to what it brings.

John 12:46 declares: “I have come as light into the world, that whoever believes in me may not remain in darkness.”  

I reflected on this passage through the lens of transformation. Christ has come as a light to bring us out of the darkness. Light transforms every way I see myself, see God, and see the world. I will look totally different to myself when I step into the light.

Is this frightening? In a way that makes no sense, do I feel safer in the dark? In the dark, I can pretend I don’t have the parts I don’t want to see; my own flaws are shadowed and hidden even from myself. It is easier to convince myself I am “better” or “healed” when, in fact, I am just not seeing clearly in the darkness.  

When I first started meditating on coming into the light, the first image that came to mind was that of being trapped by the Gestapo or the border patrol. I saw myself caught by a stark, bright flood lamp that made me need to cover my eyes and hide.

This was a dramatic image.  What was I afraid of? I know I have sincerely tried to live in the light of Christ for many years, but it is clear the Lord is inviting me to greater healing. To more transformation. Maybe something deep inside me has kept His light from penetrating completely. Maybe I have closed my eyes, choosing instead to accept the familiar lie of unworthiness in the darkness.

Whisper your truth into my heart, dear Jesus.

The light of Christ does not mean being found out or exposed or naked. It is not shame or unworthiness or lies.

Coming into the light means accepting my identity as a beloved child of God and allowing Him to fully and finally reveal my true beauty.

What if that could be the center of my Lenten journey? What if that could be my transformation? What if the light of Christ is not a harsh, disinterested glare but the perfect light of dawn that gently transforms the shadows into peace?

- The warm glow of late afternoon.

- The nurturing warmth of a perfect summer day.

- The crystalline sun which turns the flakes of blowing snow into glittery diamonds as they fall in the mountains.

My mission -- letting myself be loved –is understanding and LIVING the invitation we are offered to embrace our true beauty. To let go of feeling like I will be “caught” and my shame exposed. The Lord is the lover of my soul and my best friend. I believe this in faith and have experienced it over and over. He longs for my freedom. He longs for YOUR freedom.

The first step, the last step – EVERY step includes resting in the light of His love. Here. Now. We don’t have to wait for eternity. We don’t have to be afraid.

Matthew 10:28-31 says: “…Even all the hairs of your head are counted. So, do not be afraid! You are worth more than many sparrows.”

This is one of the most important truths of the gospel. The Lord is SO CLOSE. Close enough to see and count the hairs on our head. In this passage, Christ offers us intimacy, presence, love, affirmation, safety, worthiness… Don’t we all long for these?

This is the light we are invited to come into. The offer is transformation. You can be assured that He will be close and we will be held.

Let yourself be loved.

(originally posted 3/2019 at www.letyourselfbeloved.com)