A favorite church song for adults and children is "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine." It is a reminder that we all have gifts to offer to the people around us. Talking about the song, we mention lots of little ways that a child or adult can be a light for other people. Cheerful laughter and gentle caring are great gifts, like a light in a dark room.
But thinking about the need for lights this week, I thought about some of the different kinds of lights that help us.
In these days we also need stop lights. Each time the rhetoric gets stirred up between powers in the world, we need people who can step in and stop the ramping up of tension. The arguments between North Korea and the U S have made Japan really nervous, but haven't erupted. In that spat, China often acts as a red light, helping to ease the argument. We really needed a stop light two weeks ago for the US and Iran.
We need stop lights at home and in our communities too. There are words that "push our buttons." Certain things may shift our words from quiet to angry in a flash. In those moments, we need a stop light, someone who can step in and sort out the real issues, calm the tensions, start the conversation over from a place of calm.
Positioning lights in a home is done carefully. We take stock of where we need to see to read or to work. We put lights in those places. In the kitchen, we put lights so they shine on the counter so we cut the vegetables not the fingers.
We need people can "shed light" on a discussion, who attend to the issues, who understand processes. Wisdom is a kind of light that helps us do a job well. Compassion is also a kind of light that helps us do a task in a way that protects people from getting hurt as we do what needs to be done.
Airports use lights to tell planes where the runway is. Street lights help pedestrians and cars negotiate town streets. At major corners out in the country, the single street light helps the traveller figure out where to turn, how to stay on the road and out of the ditch.
Wisdom and faith are guides that we can offer to help people find their path, stay out of the ditches and pitfalls that life presents. Hope is a street light in the middle of nowhere that helps the person who feels lost know that there is a way forward.
In our house, we have a couple battery operated motion sensitive lights in dark places. One I put in the garage right near the key pad. I leave the garage light on when I know we are coming home after dark, but sometimes I don't calculate well. In the dark, we could not punch in the numbers correctly. Now, as soon as a hand comes near, the light comes on and we can see to get the door open.
Darkness catches us off guard in life. The loss of our job. Betrayal by someone close to us. The darkness of illness. We are told that there is cancer, and we suddenly can't see where we are going, where we are standing.
We need people of faith, hope and love to be with us in these moments helping us to see that there is a way to stand, a way to go on with life in the midst of the trouble.
The light each of us can offer is needed. It may be the darkness of sorrow, the gloom of despair, the night of illness where we bring our compassion and hope to give light. It may be the place of conflict where dispute threatens the peace of family or community. We can be wise and caring, the stoplight that keeps an issue from escalating. With hope, we can be the street light that guides the wandering, the spot light that helps people see clearly. And always, we can be the tiny candle flame that shows that the darkness has not won, that the dark can be broken.
Cathy Hird lives on the shore of Georgian Bay.
