Outlined with Glory

“Your word is a lamp to my feet
    and a light to my path…
 The unfolding of your words gives light;
    it imparts understanding to the simple…
I rise before dawn and cry for help;
    I hope in your words.” Psalm 119:105,130,147

“The sun shall be no more
    your light by day,
nor for brightness shall the moon
    give you light;
but the Lord will be your everlasting light,
    and your God will be your glory.
Your sun shall no more go down,
    nor your moon withdraw itself;
for the Lord will be your everlasting light,
    and your days of mourning shall be ended.” Isaiah 60:19-20

Darkness pales as the king of day approaches. Slowly he ascends his throne. His blazing scepter illuminates the delicate edges of every mass, marking them with glory. The longer the gaze, the more distinct shines the outline of predawn clouds. They hover and roil, looming or blocking light, making for a different kind of dark, but still there is the fire, always present, always elucidating the finger-traced divine.

We sometimes awaken with a gloom that weighs down our hours, long hours. We rue life’s clouds, the heaping heavy of circumstances, the violence of temptation that flares in our hearts, the thick sadness of loss and impossibility and broken dreams. They choke normal peaceful breathing, they block clear and hopeful vision.

But when we wait and watch, we see the glimmer of bright in God’s purposes, His abiding radiant presence that gives meaning to grace in the midst, and redemption. We sense the inimitable, penetrating light, and can calm long enough to marvel, to trust. We understand that He’s bound all the edges, knows our limits and stops the tumult from going an inch further, and shelters from the rain. (Psalm 91:1; 104:5-9; Proverbs 8:29; Joel 2:25; 2 Corinthians 12:9)

Think how much of God’s tender care and grace to us we miss because of fretting and worry. Imagine the beauty we fail to see in the midst of our complaining and brooding. What situations, what clamor, what busy distractions from significance are we allowing to accumulate in our day-to-day, making fresh thought and hope-filled joy impossible? Where has temporal mess or pain eliminated an eternal perspective?

Where can we trace the hand of God’s mercy and sufficiency in our personal clouds? Where has His glory shone bright in our gloom? We would do well to remember, and to express gratitude. What lessons have we learned in stormy days and seasons about our default sin tendencies, character flaws, self-righteousness and pride? About God’s fortifying presence and deliverance, and the sweet hidden joys of salvation? How has God used these times to reveal Himself, and wean us from ourselves? How have we grown in intimacy with our Maker?

If we are not experiencing these gifts, could it be that we can’t let go of resentment over the way things have turned out, or not? Could we too stubbornly think we should be able to control means and outcomes? Might we be reticent to dethrone anger because it’s justified, and we want resolution now? What would change if we thanked God for the clouds and looked for His light therein?

Lord, help me trust that in every vale You are with me, and every shadow cloud is lit by and for Your glory. (Psalm 23:4)