In His Light

     As I look out the window I see the green of the trees, the grayish blue of the distant mountains, the reddish brown of our cabins, the faint yellow of a passing butterfly.  I can see so many colors on all sorts of objects as they are illuminated by the light, though I do not see the light itself even as it permeates everything around me.  And though I don't see all the colors inside the light that is everywhere, I know from my elementary education that the full spectrum of colors are wrapped up inside just a beam of sunshine.  Take a prism and watch as the red separates from the green and from the blue to spread distinctly and beautifully in front of your eyes.  Or watch after a storm how a drop of rain separates the newly returned rays of peeking sunshine into a beautiful rainbow.  Completely brilliant and distinct is each individual color in the stripes of a rainbow, and though unseen individually they are no less themselves when joined together to form a stream of white light.  Miraculously impossible though it may seem, as the light shines there are millions of colors all around us.
     I hope I didn't lose your interest with a less than worthy semi-physics lesson, but I don't know how else to introduce what I'm feeling.  The deeper I walk with Christ, the closer I come to his bright light, and the more I can see things for what they are in the harmony of all the colors all around me. Just as light brings out the colors we see in the objects around us, the light of Christ brings out the color in everything around me. The blue hues of sorrow, the yellows of joy, the red shades of anger over injustice, the purple streams of glory given where it is due, the fiery orange of never-distinguishing hope...  The world is becoming more saturated in color by the light of my Lord.
     And just as a beam of white light is almost paradoxically mixed by the spectrum of colors, I too find myself a simultaneous mix joy and sorrow, anger and praise.  Every day here is another battle. Pain from the daily rejection from teens that want nothing to do with God let alone me; joy from the daily laughter I share with a best friend fighting by my side.  Anger at Satan for the lies he's using to convince my Micah brothers that they aren't loved and are worthless; glory as I watch one of my Father's 17 year old sons physically hold back a brother in love to keep him from falling into the temptation of another drunken night.  Hurt as secret sins--drugs, sex, lies--are discovered in those I love; hope as I see those boys beginning to take steps towards healing.
     As I walk forward with my eyes on the Lord, I am beginning to understand more and more what Paul meant by "sorrowful, yet always rejoicing" (2 Cor 6:10).  Jesus took up his cross for the joy set before him, and so will I.   Each blow of suffering around me is carving out an even deeper well that the Lord faithfully fills with refreshing waters of living hope.  And although the hope I have isn't eliminating the suffering in these moments, my hope is stronger than the suffering.  My hope is Jesus: he is risen, he will return, and this hope will not disappoint.  You see, all of the colors in the light of my Savior are magnificently woven into the pure, brilliant, mysterious light of Jesus' great and ever-shining love.  Therefore, I find myself sorrowful yet always rejoicing in the light of His grand love. Love that will never end...