This Little Light of Mine

It was Good Friday. She walked into my office and sat down. So. She said. It’s Good Friday, so that’s when Jesus died. Right? And then he ascended on Easter Sunday. No. I said. Jesus died on Good Friday. On Easter Sunday, he arose from the dead. Then he ascended to heaven 40 days later. Oh. She said. I never get this straight, and I just want to make my mom proud.

The thing is. She and I have never had conversations about faith or the church or spiritual matters. Yet she walks into my office and asks me these questions as if she knows that I would know the answer. Why didn’t she ask someone else? Why would she think I knew the answer?

She is the one who speaks insults to others. She uses the f-bomb as casually as any other word in her vocabulary. She has a very poor work ethic. She bends the truth to suit herself. She gossips as if life depends on it. She has lived with boyfriend after boyfriend trying to find the one true love. She lied to her landlord about the dog living in her apartment. She’s unsettled. She’s looking for something to satisfy the deepest longing of her soul. She’s looking for something more. And yet she’s unaware that she’s looking.

I’m not judging her. I’m just stating the facts. But she’s watching. She’s listening. She’s paying far more attention than I gave her credit for. Oh. She sees what I do and what I don’t do. She hears what I say and what I don’t say. She knows that the two of us have little in common. Yet she comes to me with these questions.


Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. Matthew 5:16


I realize my life is on display. I’ve asked God repeatedly why he has me in this place. I’ve questioned the reasoning of his wisdom. He says stay. You are needed in this place. You are equipped to be there. Perhaps it’s not the work itself that has the most value for me. Perhaps it’s the light I bring into a dark corner of the world that is needed the most. Perhaps I am the instrument of peace and hope.

I find that in order for my light to shine in that small place, I must continually run to Jesus with my shortcomings and doubts. And perhaps in the midst of my frail humanity, others see a strong reliance upon the One who holds the whole world in his hands. Yet he also holds me at the same time.

I must never take for granted the work that I do. Or the place that I’ve been called to. God has a purpose. A plan for me that is bigger than my dreams or plans. I need to be obedient and willing to do as he asks. To share his love with the lost and lonely and hurting. With those who need his love and peace more than they need anything else.

This little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine;
this little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine;
this little light of mine,
I’m gonna let it shine;
let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

Opportunity Knocks

She asks me to walk with her to fill her water bottle.  To join her as she heats her lunch.  She says we should walk for 10 minutes each day.  Together.  I want to find excuses not to join her.  I value my time alone.  I enjoy my independence.  She’s an extrovert.  I’m not.

Her personality is strong.  Overly confident.  Pushy.  She’s accustomed to getting her way.  We are polar opposites.

We have huge differences that separate us.  Cultural differences.  She wears a hijab.  She dresses modestly.  She eats halal foods.  She prays five times a day.  She doesn’t believe in Christ.  She lives in darkness.  She needs the light.

She’s new here.  She’s trying to fit in.  Trying to find a friend.  She’s chosen me.  I’m finding it difficult to choose her.  She called me her new bff.  I cringed a little inside.

But when I look at her from the eyes of the one who died on the cross for me, I see her differently.  He died on the cross for her, too.  She needs an opportunity to know Him.  Someone said that she’s drawn to the light.  Coming from darkness, it’s perhaps different and interesting for her to come face to face with the light.  She doesn’t even realize it’s the light that she’s attracted to.  But she’s being drawn to it.  So why am I resisting being the light that she needs?  Why do I want her to look for the light somewhere else?  Perhaps I’m the only Jesus she’ll ever meet.  Why do I resist so?


But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? And how can they hear about him unless someone tells them?  And how will anyone go and tell them without being sent? Romans 10:14-15


I know I need to spend time with her.  How do the lost become saved if the saved don’t spend time with them?  How does one who doesn’t believe in Christ start believing if no one shares the truth?

I read a prayer recently that said, “Lord, give me opportunities to share all that You have taught me with someone who needs You.”  I must confess.  I’m not one who openly shares my faith with strangers.  To me, it would be utter boldness to share my faith uninvited.  The thought of doing so makes me shudder.  I  tend to stand back and listen.  And wait.  Oh.  I know those who confidently share their faith.  For them, it isn’t boldness.  It’s as natural to them as breathing.  I’m a little envious, because they don’t have to work at it.  They just do it.  They know everyone they meet needs their Jesus.  I know it, too, but I can’t get the words out.

I know we all have our own unique strengths and weaknesses.  I’m not saying I shouldn’t share my faith.  I should.  My approach has to be my approach.  Not someone else’s.  But I do need to share when given the opportunity.

I see this opportunity in front of me.  I want to be faithful and obedient.  Even bold.  I don’t think God wants me to be someone I’m not.  But I believe he provides opportunities for all who call on Him to share His love with anyone who crosses our path.  No matter what our differences may be.  We all have one common need.  We all need God.  Heaven have mercy if I fail to do my part when called to do so.

Maybe it’s time for a 10 minute walk.