The Light on the farm today keeps changing.

The brilliant, blinding of the sun warming us, energizing us, gives way to cloud cover that brings on a quietness in the yard. This quietness allows me to see the soft white Alberta roses or the purple faces of the viola that only moments ago were washed out in the sunlight— the glare inhibiting me to see the depth of June’s colors.

I have always been fascinated by natural light; how it evokes such emotion from me. How it stirs memories. The quiet light of Northern California is one of my favorites. Light filtered by eucalyptus trees, softening it as it makes its way through windows, shaded by Arts and Crafts eaves.

Natural light is very powerful. We are affected by it every moment of the day. Even in its absence.

I wonder if that is why God uses it to describe himself, what He does in us? He is so powerful, His power in us so powerful to change.

“For once you were full of darkness, but now you have light from the Lord. So live as people of light!

          For this light within you produces only what is good, right and true.” Ephesians 5:8,9

We being merely the vessels for his powerful light:

“Awake, o sleeper, rise up from the dead,

and Christ will give you light.” Eph 5:14

I wonder if we have fooled ourselves by believing that people of light only “look” one way, only act one way. The permagrinned, bright faces of those who seem to have it all figured out. While there is no question that many of us will have seasons of His light manifesting itself this way in us, I wonder if we miss recognizing the quieter light, the light that actually gives way for us to see things more clearly, more brilliantly?  Somehow this quieter light in a person is filtered, and it settles as a presence to be seen and experienced, quietly, sweetly, and constantly—a life awash with God’s light.

There have been those encounters and then I find myself on holy ground. Experiencing the transforming nature of God’s light through my life.

God’s fullness is that, FULL. It encompasses the seasons of permagrin and it envelopes the steady seasons of a humble, quieter but no less powerful light.

We can strive all we want to be God’s light, but doesn’t the true washing of light come when we cover our eyes before the Lord, lay low and surrender to His power?

This is where all parts of our lives become bathed in His powerful light, which in turn will take on whatever form of light He sees fit: bold and brilliant or quiet and revealing. May we stop striving for what we think His light in us should look like but instead accept whatever it looks like as His powerful work and thank Him, knowing either way it’s grace.