Tag: darkness

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

He is the light

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Alexander Jawfox on Unsplash

Some “through the bible” thoughts from John 8.

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12).

Jesus’s words made me think about sources of light.

In the bible, your source of light would be the sun or from a flame, like a candle or torch.

In addition to those, my house is filled with LED lightbulbs on tables, inside appliances, hanging from ceilings, and in nightlights. The nighttime world is lit by street lights, headlights, phone lights, and motion-sensor lights.

It’s hardly every really dark.

So what different does Jesus’s light make in a not-so-dark world?

Well, darkness isn’t always about the absence of light, is it? I can be “in the dark” when I don’t have enough information about something. Books and movies may be “dark” when they involve evil or sinister topics. Dark humor uses death or pain to get a laugh. When a lot of bad things happen, we might find ourselves in a “dark place.”

Light has a lot of metaphors, too. We might say, “Enlighten me,” when someone alludes to some information we don’t have. To “shed some light” is to explain what’s going on. “Light at the end of the tunnel” expresses optimism.

All of that adds a lot of meaning to Jesus’s simple statement, “I am the light of the world.” He brings understanding, wisdom, and hope. Darkness cannot rule because it always gives way to the dawn and a new day. He invades the darkness of the grave with restored life and light.

And when there are shadows? They are created by the light. Difficult moments are from his hand to strengthen us and cultivate a mature faith.

Jesus is the light in so many ways!

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

His last miracle

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Ryan Olson on Unsplash

A “through the Bible” devotion from Isaiah 50.

“I clothe the heavens with blackness
    and make sackcloth their covering.” (Isaiah 50:3)

God speaks those words through the prophet Isaiah to people who must have forgotten his power to save, dry up bodies of water (like the Red Sea), or darken the sky (like one of the plagues).

Later, Jesus would find himself immersed in darkness from noon till 3 in the afternoon, when he breathed his last on the cross and died. I never thought of this before, but since he’s the son of God, he created that supernatural three hours of darkness. It was the last miracle of Jesus’ public ministry, foretold long before by Isaiah.

That darkness is an indication that things were going according to plan, not spinning out of control. When Jesus seemed to be helpless and powerless, he was preaching with that unusual darkness, making a powerful point. The judgment of God was real and it was fully released on the one who deserved it the least. Jesus, the righteous one, was suffering the wrath of God for sin, in place of all those (all of us) who deserve it.

“By him all things were created” (Colossians 1:16), including light and darkness, day and night, the heavens and the earth. The one who can blot out the sun and can also blot out your sins. The one who clothes the heaven with blackness can also clothe us with his righteousness. The one who covers the skies with sackcloth can adorn us with garments of salvation and robes of righteousness.

Never for a moment, even in death, underestimate his power, his mercy, and his love.

Posted in Life, Travel

The darkest darkness

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by David Gabrić on Unsplash

For our autumn getaway, see some color, enjoy some cooler weather trip we found a remote cabin on a hillside in western North Carolina. To get there, we had to drive to the end of a twisty mile-long gravel road, where there was no one else in sight.

Each night I made sure we were back from hiking or small town exploring by dark. The access road was difficult enough in daylight. No way I was going to tackle it at night.

But each evening before bed, I did have to take the dog for one last walk. On one occasion I switched off my flashlight just to see how dark it was. It was dark. It was the darkest darkness I’ve ever experienced. Cloudy skies hid the moon and stars. No far off light from a nearby town reached this area, because there was no nearby town. I couldn’t see the road I was standing on. I couldn’t see the trees around us. I couldn’t see the cabin. It was around the bend. I couldn’t see the white dog at the end of a leash. I couldn’t see anything.

I remember thinking, “If my flashlight quits, I’m not sure how I’ll find my way back.” On subsequent walks, I made sure I had my phone in my pocket for a backup flashlight. Maybe my eyes would have adjusted. Maybe I’d be able to see a little bit. Maybe not.

I remember asking a group of middle school students, “What is the darkest hour of the night?” It was one of the few times they said, “That’s a good question.” It is a good question. Poetic wisdom says it’s always darkest before the dawn. And how do you measure darkness, anyway?

Anyway, the darkness was impressive. Not eerie, not scary, just complete. Where else is it really dark? A cave. A closet. Inside a refrigerator with the door closed. When the power goes out at night. When you shut your eyes at night?

Posted in Moments of grace

It’s not very dark at night

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Meet Gada on Unsplash

Yesterday, I noticed the dark, the quiet, and the solitude of my predawn morning walk. Today, I noticed the lights.

  • The night sky is filled with lights: the moon, stars, a few planets, and the red and green of an airplane far overhead.
  • Street lights extend from utility poles light up some of the intersections as well as random stretches of road in the neighborhood.
  • I’m surprised at how many homes keep the lights on each side of the garage or atop a front walk lamppost lit all night long. They are bright, illuminating the driveway and the cars parked there. Security lights shine into every corners of backyards.
  • You’ll also see a lit up doorbell on most homes. A tiny little light just to the side of the front door is on all the time, but you’ll only notice it at night.
  • Those who support law enforcement display a blue light on the front of the house.
  • Solar-powered landscape lights are still on, lining driveways and front walkways. Sometimes they shine lights up onto trees and the side of houses, creating interesting shadows.
  • Sometimes I’ll see a single red light on the side of a house, near an electric meter. It must alert someone that something is working correctly. Or not. Who knows?
  • Just above the trees I can see the tall lights above the soccer and baseball fields. The action begins early on tournament weekends.
  • I carry my flashlight when it’s dark. Some walkers and bikers wear flashing red or green lights so passing cars don’t miss them.
  • I can see tiny blue or green alarm lights flashing inside parked cars. they are armed and ready.
  • Today, the headlights of a car delivering newspapers (two people on my block still get a paper delivered) roared past me before pulling sharply into my neighbor’s driveway just long enough to fling the paper somewhere in the yard. Just as quickly, his taillights disappeared around the corner.
  • Lights are on inside homes, too. Others are up at this very early hour, too. The flicker of TV screens peeks through the front window curtains.
  • Some neighbors leave their Halloween inflatables inflated and lit all night long. Strings of orange lights frame doors and lay across shrubs.
  • And appropriately, lights shine on the American flag, either from the base or the top of flagpoles.

It’s not very dark at night around here. And I’m sure we’re just a few days away from the first Christmas lights.

Posted in 2022 Lent Devotions

In the darkness

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“Mirror of the Passion” Lent devotion for April 2, 2022. Photo by DerTobiSturmjagd on Pixabay

It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, while the sun’s light failed. (Luke 23:44-45).

There are many reasons why you might find yourself in the dark.

It might be nighttime. But you’re still awake. Something from your day is still haunting you. You dread what’s coming up tomorrow. Your body feels so tired, but your mind has gotten its second wind.

Perhaps the power is out. There’s no glow from all your digital clocks. Without AC, the room is stuffy. No rays of light sneak in through the blinds from the streetlights. It’s dark.

You’re in the dark. It seems like everyone else knows what’s going on. But no one told you. Did they forget? Or did they purposely leave you out?

It’s different in the dark. It’s harder to drive. You trip over the sleeping dog you didn’t see. No one can see you sitting there. Noises you don’t notice during the day seem so loud in the dark – a snoring dog, the thermostat click, or the ice cube maker.

Even though it’s noon, it’s dark at Golgotha. Is it an eclipse of the sun? Are ominous dark storm clouds blocking the sunlight? We don’t know. Darkness shrouds the passion, threatening the only real light in this world. It casts a powerful shadow over the one who announced, “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). What will happen when he breathes his last? What will happen when that light goes out?

Yes, we think about that, too. What will happen when we shut our eyes for the last time? What will happen when they close the lid of our coffin? There is no darker darkness than the darkness of death. For Jesus, it’s just moments away. Maybe for us, too. You never know.

Small LED lights built into wall outlet plates come on when I turn off the lights at night. They safely guide my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. They get me past the sleeping dog and into the kitchen for a glass of water.

In much the same way, God declares, “Let there be light” in the pre-creation darkness. His promises guide me safely through the gloomy news of wars, disease, disasters, and death. His words are just like the first glow of morning in the pre-dawn sky. His voice reminds me that the darkness never lasts. The clouds part, the power comes back on, the sun rises, and the son rises.

So I can close my eyes and sleep. When it’s time, I’ll close my eyes in death. And it will be OK. Because when I open them, it will be light again.

Thanks for being in the darkness, Lord.

Posted in Lent devotions

In the dark

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“Scenes from the passion” Lent devotion for Sunday, March 28, 2021. Photo by Lucy Chian on Unsplash.

And when the sixth hour had come, there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour.  (Mk 15:33) 

It’s noon, but the sun isn’t beating down on you. I picture ominous clouds and a threatening darkness as three men slowly die by crucifixion on Golgotha. The passersby, chief priest and scribes have all left ahead of the storm, leaving Jesus and two robbers with a few soldiers who carry out the execution.

Dark clouds like that over my house are usually accompanied by alerts on my phone of severe thunderstorms in the area, lightning strikes, tornado warnings and instructions to seek cover. This is not the time to be outside. Golfers end their rounds early, roofers call it a day, surfers head in from the waves, lifeguards whistle everyone out of the pool, and I take the dog for a walk before the rain starts.

Continue reading “In the dark” →
Posted in Christmas, grandfather

Christmas ‘ites

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Screen Shot 2017-11-27 at 1.36.13 PMMy grandson Elijah was spending the day with me while his mom was out shopping with my wife. One of our projects that day was putting up the Christmas tree. I just knew it would be a memorable moment when I plugged in the lights and he saw them for the first time. He’s been watching and waiting for Christmas “‘ites” for weeks. I was not disappointed. His delighted “Oh-Oh” still makes me laugh out loud.

What is it about Christmas ‘ites that excites and delights people of every age? We’ll stop to look at house with simple candles in the window as well as those covered with thousands of colored bulbs. We’ll go out of our way to drive by those homes that are lit up in creative ways. We’ll climb ladders, walk roofs and wrap trees to light up our homes and yards. We’ll got for walks at night, as dark lonely streets suddenly come to life with the rhythmic blinking of strings of lights. We’ll stop and pause, on foot or in our cars, just to gaze at a brightly lit home we never really noticed before. Unsightly strings hanging from eaves take on magical shapes and designs when darkness comes and all that can be seen is the light.

Just as a starry sky on a clear cool night reminds us of that night out side of Bethlehem lit up by a multitude of the heavenly host, perhaps a simple string of lights takes us back to that earthly moment of heavenly glory. And who wouldn’t like some of that as we pray and wait for the brightness of a new day in a world where there is far too much darkness.

Posted in Grace, Life

Eclipse

Posted on by William Douthwaite

ring_of_fireEveryone is pretty excited about the solar eclipse across the United States tomorrow. I really hope we get a chance to see it. Many of our Florida afternoons have been defined by clouds or thunderstorms. Weatherman says fifty percent chance of storms. Thanks, buddy –I guess we’ll just flip a coin.

Anyway, one of the unique features of a total solar eclipse is the chance to see the sun’s corona as the moon blocks most of the star. This got me thinking: what big things get in the way but also help us see other things more clearly?

Sometimes a disability may help us see another ability more clearly. Someone who’s blind may have an enhanced sense of smell or hearing. A power outage may interfere with your wifi connection, forcing you to discover the value of talking to the people you are with. An injury may force you to get the rest your body desperately needs. The class you wanted was filled, so you enrolled in one that you really enjoyed but never would have otherwise considered. A detour made you take a scenic route. You got fired, but found a job in a different field that you really liked. You got cut from one team, but tried another sport that you were really good at.

When something gets in your way, you may have the chance to see something you never noticed before. Be grateful for the darkness in your life that lets you see some light.