Growing up, we had a dungeon-like basement in our house. It had the old grey cinder block foundation, a wood door which sometimes swung shut on the occupant (the scariest moments of my young life), and a dreaded stairwell that descended into this ominous pit of darkness. One old light, two yards into the space, rested against the ceiling. If you were brave enough to make it that far, you pinched the chain switch between your fingers and clicked.
My mom had a knack for sending us down to this damp space to retrieve or bring laundry to the washing machine. She didn’t understand how much each of us dreaded the chore.
On my given day, I’d stand at the top of the stairs, staring at the wooden door resting against the entrance below. I’d take a deep breath and race across the concrete steps into the void of darkness. My heart would pulse as I glanced back into the darkened corners, suspecting something awaited my arrival from the shadows. But I always knew if I could just make it to the light, I could see—
In Isaiah 9:2, it says:
The people who walk in darkness Will see a great light; Those who live in a dark land, The light will shine on them.
Do you ever feel as if you’re walking through life in the dark?
Ironically, that’s the last place God wants us to be. He’s placed the switch just above our heads. It’s available, and it’s free to you and me. Even better than my basement light, it’s within easy reach. And we call that light Jesus. So when we’re frightened by the shadows or can’t see the path ahead, He’s there—waiting to comfort, to guide, to help us see. What’s keeping you from being rescued?
I think I always pulled the light’s chain harder than needed those years as I raced into the basement. For some reason, I clung to the sensation that if it failed to flip on at first tug, whatever awaited me in the dark would have a second chance to pounce. Some of you already have tugged on that chain. Of course, Jesus doesn’t fail, so it turned on, but you’re wading into dark spaces ahead—areas of life you can’t see how to press forward. Or maybe, for you, you’re sitting against the damp concrete—stuck in the rut of life’s twist and turns…
Wherever you are, wherever you’ve landed, the light’s just above. Unlike my flawed switch, which seemed to always click a second too slow, Jesus is ready to meet your needs. He isn’t delayed. He isn’t distant. He’s right there beside you. So reach out, touch the chain which dangles within your grasp and rest in the light today.