Becoming Lightbearers

“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.” — Edith Wharton.

As I write this, I am watching the sun begin to peek over the horizon through my window.  The light of the morning woke me, as it almost always does.  I suppose that I could invest in blackout curtains, but I would rather be awakened by the light.  

There's something almost magical about it, unless I stayed up way too late the night before.  But even then, in my groggy pre-dawn state, I feel something stir inside of me at the beginning of a new day.  

There’s a moment just before dawn when everything feels suspended. The darkness lingers, yet there’s a shimmer at the edge of the horizon — a whisper of color that promises something more. That’s what hope feels like in a weary world.

Jesus once stood on a hillside and told a small band of ordinary followers, “You are the light of the world.” It was a staggering statement. He didn’t say, “Try to be light,” or “Someday you’ll become light.” He said, You already are.

The world Jesus spoke into was no less dark than ours. Violence, corruption, fear, division — all of it. But his way of responding wasn’t withdrawal or outrage; it was illumination. His followers weren’t meant to curse the darkness, but to shine into it, reflecting the light of love that emanates from God.  

Light doesn’t argue with darkness; it just exists. It shines. And in shining, it changes the atmosphere.

We live in a time when it’s easy to feel small and powerless. The problems are vast; the shadows deep. But light doesn’t have to be large to be effective. A single candle can break the hold of the night. 

You might be that candle — in your family, your workplace, your community. Every act of kindness, every word of truth spoken in love, every small mercy given to someone forgotten… these are beams of holy light.

Paul wrote to the Philippians, “Shine among them like stars in the sky as you hold firmly to the word of life.” (Philippians 2:15–16) The Greek word he used carries the image of a lighthouse — steadfast and constant amid turbulent seas. That’s what we’re called to be: steady, bright, and anchored in Christ.

You don’t have to solve the world’s darkness; just refuse to let it extinguish your light.  

And know that the light you are shining comes from somewhere otherworldly and beautiful, the very loving presence of a God who promises that the darkness can be overcome when we refuse to let our lights dim.  

Prayer

God of light,
kindle the flame of Your love within me.
Where fear casts its shadow,
let my life become a quiet lamp of grace.
Teach me to shine with hope,
to reflect Your goodness in ordinary moments,
and to trust that even small lights
can change the night.
Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. Where do you see darkness or discouragement most clearly in the world around you?

2. What small, practical ways can you shine light and hope this week?

3. How can you help others remember that they, too, are lightbearers?