There’s a light mounted on the side of our barn; it’s motion-censored, which we originally thought was a great idea. When it’s dark at our house after the sunset, it’s REALLY dark (especially if the moon isn’t out). But I find myself frustrated. I can walk straight to the barn door from the house and the light doesn’t come on until I’m literally standing under it ~ right at the door. A lot of good that does. I could’ve already been mugged by a trash panda or otherwise assaulted (hissed at) by a nasty opossum (there’s an extremely overweight one living somewhere on the edge of the woods). So I grumble and complain about it for a minute and then I move on.
This morning, on my pre-sunrise walk at the Intelliplex, I had plans to listen to worship music for a little while, followed by listening to Ephesians on the Bible App, and finishing with more worship music. It comes as no surprise that God had other plans. But I almost missed out.
I’ve been preparing to speak at a conference/retreat on November 2nd. I knew there was something God was trying to tell me; a message within that message that was meant just for me. I switched from music to Ephesians without difficulty. Then, suddenly, it wouldn’t read beyond chapter one. No matter what I did, chapter two simply wouldn’t play. My initial temptation was to go back to music; that’s the easy answer. Yet God seldom works that way. So I turned off both apps and walked in silence. Just me and God. The silence quickly became a conversation. A pleading.
The lights at the Intelliplex aren’t on motion-censors. However, there are very clear and distinct lines between the dark and the light in those areas. As I walked I could see dark ahead. Many people would be hesitant (even afraid) to walk in those areas. Yet as I took each step, the dark around me didn’t seem as dark. It was as if I had “just enough light”.
Life is often like my walk this morning. All around us seems so scary. What’s beyond the next turn? How will I know where to go or what to do? Yet just like this morning, with each step, God gives us just enough light. If we’re walking with Him, trusting in Him, and listening for Him, the fear of the next step dissipates. And sometimes, in His mercy, He’ll make it crystal clear with obvious signs that give very specific instructions.
My barn light has now reminded me of a valuable lesson. I may not know what the next step looks like. Stepping into the unknown can be intimidating. But He rewards obedience. And as long as He’s with me, I have just enough light for that next step.
Psalm 119:105, 130 ~ Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path…………The unfolding of your words gives light; it imparts understanding to the simple.