Let in the Light
January threatens to be a bit dreary. A lot dreary.
Short days.
Long nights.
If I allowed it, I would cave to its depressive demeanor and hide under the covers until spring…maybe until I spied the yellow daffodils breaking through the dirt.
Fortunately, though, there’s an orange tree out front and a lemon tree up the street, both dripping in luminous citrus. Their heavy branches remind me that there’s still beauty ripe for picking, even in the gloomiest of months.
Bagging a fragrant harvest, I peel ‘em, zest ‘em, juice ‘em and send them with grandkids for their school lunches. My favorite winter dessert is a classic Lemon Meringue Pie, and while its baking process is not for the faint-hearted, I can’t help but whip up a couple.
One of the nicest things that anyone’s ever done for me was to surprise me with a home-baked lemon meringue pie. After working a long day, I found it perfectly perched on my doorstep. It resembled a prop out of a Hallmark movie, so perfectly coiffed with its meringue swirls and flourishes slightly toasted on the edges.
I still smile…no I still grin … remembering that kind gesture. How absolutely stunning it looked sitting on the little porch of that shingled house, illuminated by the single shaft of light above the wooden trim of the screen door. Basking in the limelight (or lemon-light?). Consequently, I try to pay it forward every January and find a porch looking for a pie.
I’m already feeling better sharing this story with you. Recalling the good things works when there’s bad things in life. And there’s always plenty of the latter.
Genuine stories of kindness tend to shine the light into the dark spaces.
That was the impetus behind the release of “Let in the Light,” a devotional book to remind us struggling pilgrims that a good God is still guiding our steps when the days are short and the nights are long.
Privileged to be part of the writing team that contributed stories and corresponding scripture, and in collaboration with author Lysa TerKeurst, I enclose an excerpt of one of my chapters.
When We’re Standing on Holy Ground
2 Chronicles 7:3
There’s something appropriate about lying prostrate on the ground before the Lord of the Universe at the revelation of His presence. I understood that as I fell to my face in utter abandonment. Not in a sanctified space like Solomon’s Temple, but in the carpeted confines of my closet.
It had been a week since my husband had walked out on our marriage, and I sought refuge in this personal hideaway. My body’s posture testified to my desire to have God’s sovereign will to reign in my life.
A metaphorical fire had decimated my world, yet I sensed that I was occupying hold ground. A place where God would show His supernatural willingness to dwell with me and ultimately to display His glory. His light…
My prayer remains that in the dreary times of your life, you can believe that The Light will find its way into your world and give you hope, peace and rest.
xo,
Carole
PS Now go find a porch looking for a pie. Report back!