I approached a small bathroom after the church service this past Sunday and found the door ajar. I reached inside and flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. The fixture, bulb, or both had gone south. Not wanting to walk a distance to another bathroom, I slipped inside, closed the door, locked it, and pondered how many steps there might be to the toilet. I began to unbutton my slacks in the inky space. Only the tiniest sliver of light slid under the bathroom door.
Out of the sea of darkness came a small sweet voice. “Hey, I’m in here.”
I buttoned, unlocked, opened, and turned around. There, a fellow much too small to read Women or Men grinned at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t see you.”
His grin broadened. “That’s okay.”
I left the room, leaving the door ajar as I’d found it, so he could once more have a little light inside.
The light I have is inside me. And that light is God. I don’t have to fear the dark, because I carry Him with me at all times, in all places. If I start to doubt, I grow very still and listen.
“Hey, I’m in here,” He says.
Anytime, I can draw close. Anytime, even in the dark.
"When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life (John 8:12).”