by Christina Hubbard
Here was a life made of pure light. At the Black Canyon of the Gunnison on a camping trip, I saw natural incandescence. My dad beckoned us from our tents to a rock in the pitch black. A light the size of the white part of my pinky fingernail glowed on its surface.
It wasn’t a glow in the dark sticker. It was a glow worm, shining the night away. It’s greenish gleam, tiny as it was, lit us up, in every good way. We stood in awe, studying this miniscule piece of life in the middle of nowhere.
Mr. Glow Worm wasn’t worried about whether his light was enough, he was the light he was meant to be. So must we be.
We are life made of pure light. We are beacons lighting up wild, black nights.
Love from a Fellow Creative
If what you are creating keeps you up at night, if it takes up space in your conversations, if it’s what you strive to learn more about, if it makes your insides ache, then go create. Get it out. Don’t let good ideas die in your head because they aren’t perfect.
—Amy Sullivan, author.
Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Matthew 5:14-15 MSG