this little light of mine

You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven. (Matthew 5:14-16)

I finally had a moment of peace and was nibbling on McDonald's fries while catching up on my favorite blogs. There were no teenage girls needing emotional deescalation, nor any ten-year-old charmers trying to avoid folding their laundry by shining cute dimples. Nope. At long last there was quiet as I waited for my Bible study partners to arrive.

A 50-something man in business casual garb placed his laptop and work folders on a nearby table. As he was heading towards the counter, he spotted the Bible sitting at the corner of my own table and remarked, "Good book."

I was engrossed in my own world and was actively ignoring his. I turned my face up from my phone, and irritably replied, "Huh?"

He clarified, "I said that you have a good book there."

I half-smiled and gave a nodding gesture to let him know that he had done his Christian deed by acknowledging the existence of another believer, and that I planned to return to my own world. He continued to the counter to order.

A million thoughts ran through my head. You see, my friends and I meet at the Granger McDonald's because they have a Playplace for Michael's three oldest kids. It's the only business I have in Granger -- I generally try to avoid environments heavy with cozy, well-to-do Christianity, and Granger is our regional capital in this regard.

[See Anthony support his bias with blanket statements. See Anthony become so accustomed to rejection that he rejects them first. See Anthony blend into worldly oblivion.]

God has grace. The man returns and the Holy Spirit leads him to continue:

"I hope I'm not bothering you. I was wondering if you were a minister or something."

My defensive instincts kick into full gear. I think to myself, "Okay Baby Boomer, do you really want some of this? Do you want me to speak words that you will receive as condemnation because you have no desire to leave your life of comfort? Do you need me to be the bad guy?!?"

Amazingly, I keep the thoughts to myself and begin sharing my vision for reformation and ministry to God. I was obedient with an asterisk. What now, God?

This man named John begins sharing a story of how his family took in a teenage girl that would've easily ended up in placement. It was the same sad story I witness every day, only he and his wife had provided a happy ending. John said that it was hard for him to experience the kind of ministry they had to this girl and still reconcile the comfort he saw in other believers. He was ruined like me.

I sat through 30 minutes of what seemed like an interview. I answered dozens of questions pertaining to what God had shown me about His Church, and this elder affirmed every single answer. I was dumbfounded. Having initially dismissed John as nothing more than another Sunday Christian, he immediately showed himself to be a brother, and began to encourage me in my lonely place. He acknowledged that a person my age (he meant young!) being exposed to this level of truth had to feel pretty isolated.

Wait...did I just receive...empathy?

God is way too good sometimes. A deep emotion welled up within me at the thought that somebody trusted my words. It wasn't just God giving me a word without the luxury of defending it -- he presented an ally that had walked before me and was telling me that I'm not crazy.

Since I speak boldly, you may find it hard to believe that this lie crosses my mind. I hold every thought captive to scripture, but the constant rejection of the American church would lead me to believe that I have it all wrong. That it's time to be quiet. That I should let the real ministers speak. That I should just eat my fries and leave it alone...whatever blessing or curse "it" may hold.

I've been reading this week about light. It cannot hide if it desires. Light consumes. It finds darkness and makes itself known. It cannot claim ignorance to things as they are, because light illuminates the truth. Without light, we can pretend a filthy house is clean. Flip the switch and everything changes.

I cannot stop being light. I am light, and my ministry is to darkness. Since I cannot cease being light, I can only snuff my glow by covering it or keeping it from places of darkness. You know that song we grew up with: "This Little Light of Mine?" Remember the verse that says, "Don't let Satan poof it out?"

I call B.S. -- Satan cannot "poof" out my light. Only I can choose to hide God's glory within me. Let's stop giving our enemy credit; his darkness is subject to the authority and consumption of the light of Christ. And let's begin to take responsibility for the light that we also possess as believers and are meant to shine.

I'm thankful that God gave me the grace to listen to John. I'm grateful that He reminds me when I'm being an idiot, and He prevents me from hiding the greatest gift known to man. I need to trust my Jesus and shine this light in a prominent place. Does that scare me? It terrifies my flesh. But Satan must be more frightened than I, otherwise he wouldn't bother persuading me to harness this torch!

I leave you with this ditty:

Go back, baby, the way you came
I made a trail to mark the way
Drops of wine and crumbs of flesh
Hurry back, child, before you're dead

I can't pretend now that you're alive
I know I'm dancing with the dead tonight
Heaving bodies in the front yard lights
They're easing off the glory of the truth denied

This little light of mine
Shine bright and blind the reaper's eyes
Hear you stomping on the tops of pines
We rest as death lays on his knife

The moon ain't pulling at the waves tonight
It's dragging me around just like it drug the tide
Oh, these great hands that pull my life
They drug me outside of y'all's house last night

Where I said, "Pack it up boys. Gather all your stuff.
In this old money town, it's easy to get stuck."
I left the flashlights by the road
And an atlas to follow

This little light of mine
Shine bright and blind the reaper's eyes
Hear you stomping on the tops of pines
We rest as death lays on his knife

"An Atlas to Follow" by Wild Sweet Orange, from We Have Cause to Be Uneasy