I did not teach them this.
We’ve read no books on the topic. Not one lecture given. Not once have I told them, encouraged them, commanded them.
Yet they know.
It is good to rest in the sun.
Bodies cooled by the water lay still, grateful; getting warm slowly, deliciously.
And I consider how these moments age like wine, how stillness in the vacation sun is treasured more deeply by me now that I have felt the stuffiness of an office building, of a schedule, of the daily grind. The stillness-- the chance to breathe, to just be-- it is a blessed spot of time, objectively lovely, worth savoring.
My dear children know little of darkness yet, and so they do not appreciate the sun deeply yet, but they do appreciate. They receive, rest, rejoice, as children.
And this mother who watches them, she rejoices too, but as an adult. And she ponders these things in her heart.
I consider God, who spoke light into existence, Jesus, the light of the world; His Word, a light unto my path. I consider the darkness in my heart, the ridiculous way I fight Him, asking to stay in the stuffy office building of my own creation, pretending to prefer the oppressive hot air of my own “righteousness” instead of the free and sweet air of His grace.
I consider the odd and amazing invitation given to me to live in the light, to walk in the light, as He is in the light.
I breathe in, and pray for a heart open like my hands, for life and light to fill me, for Jesus to scatter my darkness.
The contrast increases as we age, does it not? As does the threat or darkness, the shadow of death, the horrors we hide in our own closets: darkness oppresses, tries to suffocate, to strangle us.
Do we shut our eyes and pretend it is not happening? Or do we flee for refuge to the only place we can- to God’s infinite mercy, seeking and imploring His grace for the sake of His Son Jesus Christ, our Lord?
Jesus, scatter the darkness.
I look at my dear babies, soft limbs still playing in the sun. I would not dream of forbidding them this pleasure. May they be surrounded with His Word as generously as the sunshine, that they may grow up in the light of Christ.
The light of Christ brings life and sight, warmth and energy with it. Just as the light of the sun produces physical life, sight, warmth, and energy in our world, so also God’s Word brings life to our dying souls, vision to our dark minds, warmth to our cold hearts, and energy to our weak bodies. Through His Word the triune God comes to us, makes His home with us, and fills us with His presence (cf. John 14:23) (Kleinig, Grace Upon Grace, p 116)