Moreover, you led them…to give them light on the way in which they should go

Nehemiah 9:12

Our light fades fast in the afternoons now. Long shadows start by 3:25 and the town is in the dark by 5pm. That’s when the porch lights switch on and twinkle lights dot the outlines of houses. Our neighborhood cozies back up with a soft glow soon after sundown. 

Have you noticed how light slips in?

On gray days and dark evenings, light slips in with lamplight.

During the hot, steamy Alabama summer, sunlight pushed against our window shades.

On bitter cold Minnesota mornings, light spilled in through our windows and was strong enough to melt snow on our driveway.

In arctic darkness, light dances across the sky.

Light has a way of making what is ordinary or plain simply beautiful.

During Advent, I like to revisit the little hillside home where Elizabeth, Mary, and Zechariah are living while they await the births of their promised babies. When I imagine the scene, my mind always starts at nightfall. I see the small house, with a lamp shining on the table. As I zoom in, I find Mary and Elizabeth in conversation, busy cleaning dinner up, giggling together, while Zechariah silently watches them. His eyes sparkle and his cheeks betray a grin under his beard. It is a cozy little gathering in a nondescript corner of the world.

But right there in their midst, the Light has slipped into the world, and exactly three people know it. I find it remarkable because the setting is so completely commonplace.

Light will always find its way in.

This Advent, keep watch for the light. 

Where is light slipping into the commonplace moments of life?

For the path does not grow duller as we go on but brighter…And light is sown on that path, and gladness.

Amy Carmichael, Candles in the Dark