Child of Light
“Live as children of light—for the fruit of the light is found in all that is good and right and true.”
I don't know about you, but I wrestle with being a child of light. Unlike some, I don't believe this is a one-and-done kind of thing—you are “saved” (whatever that means) and suddenly you can do no wrong. Your life is cleaned up forever, and if you do something spiteful or insensitive, you just remind yourself that you're “redeemed” (whatever that means) and go on. Maybe I'm different, but I have a lot of darkness in me that simply has to be dealt with on a day-by-day, moment-to-moment, and sometimes, even thought-by-thought basis. To be a child of the light, at least in my case, requires a steady supply of kindling.
Some would say that becoming a child of light happens in an instant—at the moment of “salvation” (whatever that means). I haven't found that to be true. I think becoming a child of light is the journey of a lifetime. As we travel the path from birth to death, we unearth our personal reality, our inner being—some of which is light, and some which is decidedly not light. But if we bring our darkness to the surface, if we confront it honestly, transformation takes place—slowly, over time. That transformation is more like a slow-motion, time-lapse sunrise than an exploding fourth of July firework.
Transformation always begins in the dark—like a seed in the ground, like a bear in its den giving birth in deep winter. It begins with a dawning awareness—a question, “Did I do that?” or, “Where did that come from?” and then it grows by showing up more loudly, more blatantly, until it's undeniable. Transformation is complete only when we are fully aware of the shadow we carry, and consciously choose not to live from it. We will not extinguish our darkness by throwing a blanket over it, only by seeing it in its fullness, and kindling the flame of change each and every day. If we are fortunate, and diligent, we will leave this earth lighter than we entered it.
In the Spirit,