Light

I'm the juggler of full plates, "yes, I can do that today", over-achieving, try-anything-once kind of mess your mother warned you about.

I've broken laws and commandments.

I wrestle with anger, money problems, and cravings for Cinnabon cinnamon rolls.

I'm a shattered mess of a thousand broken pieces, and that's just where God wants me.

Let me explain:

I grew up learning church songs like "This Little Light of Mine" and  "Jesus Wants me for a Sunbeam" and hearing scripture like Matthew 5:13-16...

You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine!

I assumed, as any over-achieving mess would - that my light was to be the single most bright and beautiful beam around.

But then it would happen. You know...it.  

[Insert your own problems, trials, addictions, struggles, fears here]

My bright and beautiful beam would fade, flicker, then go out all together.

So, I struggled with this beam image until one day as I was helping my son, Pike with his history homework. He was learning about the Hagia Sofia in Turkey. It is a beautiful church turned mosque turned museum and an architectural marvel filled with tile mosaics. At one point in history, the interior featured over 30 million tiny gold tiles and get this: they were broken and placed crooked in the grout so as to reflect the sun.

Millions of pieces shining off each other to fill the space with soft, radiant light.

One, harsh beam that blinds and is easily extinguished.  

Oh. I see. 

Lord, that you could take my broken pieces and form a beautiful mosaic - tilted and placed so as to shine with and for the other broken people around me. That together, we could reflect your light and fill this world with its soft, radiant glow. Amen