My sweet friend bought me Easter Lilies and brought them to
me the Wednesday before Easter.
Normally, these flowers don’t last very long,
but mine are still blooming and beautiful.
Last week, I don’t remember what I was doing, but I was
rushing around the house, and the Lord said,
Stop and look. Notice.
All the blooms on the flowers had stretched toward the light
at the window.
Maybe it’s because I’m obsessed with the new Bethel album
and love the song “Shine on Us,” but I’ve been thinking about light and
darkness a lot lately.
He is light, and His light displaces darkness. Darkness and
light cannot co-exist.
The same day, He said, Look—notice,
I was feeling so emotional and all over the place. I felt overwhelmed and not
enough, and I knew I wasn’t walking in who I am in Christ.
It was like I knew it—but the feelings were so real too.
But His truth is light; it shines on those dark places in my
heart where lies hide and wait, where false words sneak and slither.
When I speak His truth, when I believe His truth, I shine
light there—and the darkness cannot stay.
Oh that I would position my heart—as the lilies have—to be
stretched toward the light, to be turned entirely toward it, to desperately
seek it, to hunger and thirst for it.
That His light of truth would be my greatest need.
Without it, I cannot survive.
I love Psalm 139—“Search my heart and know me, try me and
know my thoughts; see if there is any grievous way in me and lead me in the way
everlasting.”
David’s prayer is a prayer for light: let the light come
closer, let it examine, let it know and see.
God’s light on our heart is never bad; it never hurts or
burns.
Like the light for the lilies, it brings life and hope; God’s
light restores truth and brings peace.
Dear friends, let’s walk in the light as sons and daughters.
Let’s be drawn to Him.
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