What, then, ought we to think, seeing that the darkness comes at the end of each and every day to fill the vacancy left behind by the departing light of the sun?
The earth turns its face, my face, to the rising of the sun each morning, to soak up the warmth and allow the light to bring clarity to the way through another day.
The contrast is overpowering. The world performs with graceful inspiration under the spotlight. Anything is possible in the full light of day. Confusion hosts a drowsy fear in the limited visibility of the deepest moments of the night.
What, then, ought we to believe, knowing the world turns, and the dizziness and disorientation will come with the motion, and the light will fade then burn bright again, and fade?
Perhaps, maybe just perhaps, we ought to be resigned to the ebb and flow, seemingly more ebb than flow, knowing the sparks that fly, bringing inspiration and assurance of hope, will fade into the powder of ashes. Perhaps.
Perhaps, the nagging doubts, the ever-encroaching darkness of the unknown, certainly coming to disperse fragile certainty, indicate open-minded intelligence, full consideration, rational thinking, leading the way to a higher ground of moral certitude and enlightened spiritual depth. Perhaps.
A transcendent light shines, though, outside the night of my turned-away face – cooled by the shadow imposed over me.
The light shines. If my perspective will allow for it, look for it, pursue it. The darkness cannot prevent it.
“If I say, surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.” Psalm 139:11,12 (KJV)
“Then I said to myself, ‘Oh, he even sees me in the dark! At night I’m immersed in the light!’ It’s a fact: darkness isn’t dark to you; night and day, darkness and light, they’re all the same to you.” Psalm 139:11,12 (MSG)