Lights out? Nah, not tonight!

I’m sitting outside in the gazebo (pronounced gaze-bo), watching Steve work on pre-wiring it for the ceiling fan and lights.  I’m also enjoying God’s majesty as the sun begins to set, providing me a cloudy splendor as the rays shine down like spotlights.  One of my neighbors is mowing and the sound only slightly interferes with the gentle beats of the wood chimes as an occasional breeze moves them together.

When I first came out here, being the typical Southern gal that I am who doesn’t like getting too much nature on her, I lit the Cinnamon Spice Citronella Candle to help keep those pesky mosquitoes away from my tender flesh.  As I watched the flame gently flicker, dancing in the soft breeze, it almost seemed merry, which made me think of Christmas.  I reached over and tenderly cupped my hands around the candle, enjoying its slight warmth, even though my phone tells me it’s 86 degrees out here.  

My thoughts drifted from one place to another, and then they flickered as the flame of the candle wavered.  I cupped my hands around it, trying to prevent its light from extinguishing.  It worked and once again the flame danced merrily about, shining its light, fulfilling its purpose.  I thought about me and my light as I once again valiantly placed my hands around the candle, trying to prevent the wind from overtaking it.  Distracted by my surroundings, I looked away.  Just for a moment.  The sky was so pretty!

Feeling a tickle on my leg, I brushed away the fly that was trying to nest there (although Steve assures me flies don’t nest.  I reminded him I haven’t shaved this month and this fly was definitely trying to nest!).  

“Why isn’t that candle keeping the bugs away?”  I thought in dismay.  

Guess what?  It had gone out again, snuffed out by the wind when I wasn’t protecting it, when the watchman had failed in her duty.  Thought it didn’t literally move, the candle had lost its place from the protector.  Only a slight scent of its fragrance was left behind--left behind to remind me.

About what, Stef?

About this little light of mine.  About when I let it shine and when I allow it to give off gentle warmth.  About the fragrance, the aroma that I emanate.  About the bugs I keep away.  And about the winds of care that blow sometimes softly and at other times more forcefully.  It makes me glad that Jesus isn’t like me and does not look away for even one second.  It makes my heart smile as I envision His nail-scarred hands filtering what can and what cannot touch me.  It makes me grateful that while I can sometimes shine before others that it’s His glory that is revealed.  

That’s what it reminds me of.  Aren’t you so glad you asked?

And I think to myself "What A Wonderful World!"

Don’t we serve an all-amazing, wonderful, beautiful, sweet, giving God?  I mean, just look around you.  Creation is blooming with delights He created for His children to enjoy, to savor, to relax in.  

Last night as the sun set, the moon was rising.  A full moon, bathing my ‘hood and the horizon with a soft light.  As I stared up at it from the gazebo, I couldn’t help but think where its light came from.  It reminded me of what my oh-so-precious first grandson said to me once about how I was the sun and he was the moon and he revolved around me.  Those words melt my heart each time I think on them but as I pondered last night how the moon reflects the glory of God, they struck me anew.

God is the Light.  We are parts of His universe and we each have a special part to play.  As He shines on us, we are to reflect to the rest of the world that light, that presence, that life.  Look at the flowers in this picture. See how their glory is revealed?  That is their purpose and as they do their job, they bless us in return.  As they bloom, we revel in their simplistic beauty.  Their aroma is a sweet one, causing us to breathe in their scent, and to sigh with rapture.

Our lives are to be the same as these flowers, as the moon.  We are to be pleasing to our Lord with our presence and in our day-to-day living.  While we will have seasons of growth, of hibernation, and of being resown, our duty is to stay attached to the Vine.  And, as the moon goes through its phases, so do we.  At times our lights won’t shine.  Other times, our illumination will be hard to see because we have been diminished or only allowed partial viewing because our time is not yet.  Regardless of the phases of the moon and the seasons of the flowers, friends we are to reflect the love of God in our lives.  So, go on.  Be pretty for Jesus!  Flash those pearly whites (or, as in my case, what’s left of them).  Put your smell good (what my gsons call aftershave) on.  Do all to the glory of God.  After all, look what He’s done for you!

Let’s pray!

Oh dear Father, what a wonderful world You made!  Thank You so much for flowers, for birds, for trees, for stars, and a moon.  Thank You for children and the sound of their laughter.  Thank You for freedom and time and eyes to see what You have designed for Your children--for me!

You are lovely.  You are good.  And somehow in all of Your wonder, You took time to acknowledge me and to love all that I could be once Jesus came into my life.  But You didn’t stop there, oh no.  You daily show me new things to love about You.  Throughout the moments that pass me by, often You teach me lessons on what a vast favor You bestow on creation.  Mostly though, dear Father, You love me.  Quietly, as when the breeze whispers by.  Fiercely, as when the storms rage.  Simply, as the sunflowers grow.  Devotedly, shining on me even when I don’t want to see Your light, when I try to hide from the brilliance of You.  Ahh, Lord:  You amaze me.

I do love You ever so much, even when I don’t appear to.  Thank You for grace, for the fruits of Your Spirit, for Jesus, and for all the things You do that work together for my good.  It is my honor to serve You in return.  I hope to make You proud!  In the name of Jesus Christ I pray these things.  Amen.