THE COMING STORM

We had a new adventure during February and March!  We left home and stayed in Orange Beach, Alabama.  I was thrilled about this and Bill went along.  Bless his heart.

I have been to beaches before and we have been to Orange Beach before.  What I have never experienced is a storm on a beach.  Thankfully, not a bad storm like a tornado or a hurricane, but a pretty big thunderstorm.

You need to know that I love to watch it storm.  As a kid, I would sit in the corner of the porch and watch the rain and lightening.  I loved the sound of thunder.  I still love to watch it storm.  I will sit in front of a window and watch the trees dance and the sky turn black.  But a storm by the water’s edge is different.

We had a very small storm when we first got here.  Last night was that storm on steroids.  At one in the morning, YES MORNING, I stood with the balcony door open and listened.  The thunder sounded like it would start way out and then grow louder as it came closer to shore.  No.. it was coming from the west.  No.. the east.  It was like having surround-sound.  The thunder was rumbling in circles.  I know.  Sounds strange, but I don’t know how else to describe it.  The lightening would look like someone was shining a flashlight through the clouds and then a bolt would streak from nowhere.  It is amazing how dark it is when looking out over the water.  Did I tell you how much I love to watch it storm?

When I spoke with a new friend, she said she had gotten up, dressed, and put shoes on just in case.

Sadly, while I was enjoying the spectacular show, towns were being devastated and lives turned upside down by tornadoes. A storm can have such beauty in one spot and such destruction in another.

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It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining.  And the curtain of the temple was torn in two.     Luke 23:44-45

What would it have been like to be there?  The sky turning dark in the middle of the day.  The temperature would have dropped.  The fear would have been strong enough to smell.  The cross.  The hill.  The soldiers.  The believers.  The mother.  

What do I see?  I see beauty.

Did you do a double take?  Did you re-read what I wrote?  Beauty was a surprise to me too.  I have never thought of this as a beautiful sight.  How can there be beauty in Jesus hanging on a cross?  Bleeding!  In pain!  When I look at the Cross, I feel such shame, but I also see my hope.  My redemption.  I see great love.

And that is the most beautiful sight of all.  The beauty is the love of Christ which turns the dark sky to a light so bright we will always be able to find our way to Him.  Find our way to the Cross.

 ADOPTED

Every so often, I am at a loss as to what to write.  Writing a blog is at the back of my mind on Monday, starts moving forward on Tuesday, and by Wednesday I start getting a bit nervous.  The blog needs to be ready by Friday morning and NOTHING.  Absolutely, nothing.  I no longer have days to write a blog.  I only have hours.  Thursday morning and still nothing.  And then....

And then I pick up a book by Jeanette Winterson:  Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?  One thing I am rarely called is normal so the title intrigued me.  The story is written by a woman who had a terrible childhood.  She was adopted into a very unstable house.  I have only read the beginning but there are a few sentences that made me think about how it feels to being adopted.

“Adopted children are self-invented because we have to be; there is an absence, a void, a question mark at the very beginning of our lives.  A crucial part of our story is gone.”

“Where you are born — what you are born into, the place, the history of the place, how that history mates with your own — stamps who you are, whatever the pundits of globalization have to say.”

“When I was born I became the visible corner of a folded map.  The map has more than one route.  More than one destination.  The map that is the unfolding self is not exactly leading anywhere.  The arrow that says YOU ARE HERE is your first coordinate.  There is a lot that you can’t change when you are a kid.  But you can pack for the journey.”

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We have an adopted granddaughter and she was in my heart the minute I laid eyes on her.  She is MY GRANDDAUGHTER!  I consider her a gift, but I also know she has had questions about her birth family.  There is a gap in her life, even though she came into our family from the hospital.  There are many questions for the adoptive parents also.  They have no family history which will help them understand this new daughter.  Will she be even tempered or smart or healthy.  They cannot look at grandparents or themselves to see a resemblance or a family characteristic that has carried through the generations. A crucial part of the story is gone.

I am adopted.  I have been adopted into the Family of God!

See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!  And that is what we are!  1 John 3:1

The big difference, I know my past.  It is not a mystery.  The amazing part is that God knows my past and still welcomed me into his family.  

I would like to rewrite one of the author’s paragraphs.

When I was born, I became the visible corner of a folded map.  The arrow said, “MARY, YOU ARE HERE.”  I discovered there are many routes and many destinations.  As a kid, I could not change the path my parents placed me on.  I then followed the path I placed myself on and have walked that path with Bill beside me.  The most important path is the one that led me to being adopted.  All the things I had packed for my journey of life were quickly left at the foot of the cross.  At my adoption, I began a new journey.  I still have many paths and destinations to pick from, but now I know my adoption means there is no longer a crucial part of my story missing.

 PREJUDGE

Prejudge:  to judge before hearing or before full and sufficient examination.

The other day I heard a speaker say, “You are not to judge, but do you prejudge?”

That is a powerful question.  I am sure most of us would answer, “Of course I do not prejudge.  I want all the facts.”  How would this answer line up with your life?

Let’s start with the news.  Do you read only the headline?  If so, you are prejudging the article.  The headline is sensational to grab your attention.  The article is usually very different and should contain the facts.  Do you prejudge the news or find the facts?

Next is food.  Are you willing to try something new?  If not, why?  How do you know you will not like a certain spice?  Or macaroni and cheese made with something other that the box mix?  Do you prejudge food and miss out on a new taste sensation?

Finally, the biggie === PEOPLE!  Do you prejudge people?  And everyone answered, “Of course I do not prejudge people.”  We like to think we do not, but fess up.  We prejudge everyone we meet.  We look at their eyes, their smile, their hands, their tattoos, their hair, and their body piercings.  We look at their clothes and prejudge the person if the clothes are not to our liking or if their jeans are pulled below their underwear.  We prejudge people by their mode of transportation or the house they live in or if they are homeless. We prejudge people depending on where they go to church or if they do not go to church.  We prejudge people by the way they vote and, sadly, by the color of their skin.

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If you are feeling guilty, you need to realize Jesus prejudged people.

Jesus prejudged the Samaritan woman.  She was prejudged worthy of eternal life.  Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”     John‬ ‭4:13-14‬

Jesus prejudged Bartimaeus.  He was prejudged worthy of seeing.  “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him. The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.” “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.”  ‭‭Mark‬ ‭10:51-52‬ 

Jesus prejudged the crippled lady.  She was prejudged worthy of standing tall.  “When Jesus saw her, he called her forward and said to her, “Woman, you are set free from your infirmity.” Then he put his hands on her, and immediately she straightened up and praised God.”  Luke‬ ‭13:12-13‬ ‭

Jesus has prejudged each of us.  We are prejudged worthy to be loved by the Father.  “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! 1 John‬ ‭3:1‬ 

Sooooo... if someone asks if you prejudge people, you can say, “Yes I do.  I prejudge them worthy of the love of the Father.  And I will treat them that way...worthy!”

 WAITING

Waiting!  I hate to wait.  Waiting on someone to answer a business phone is a boring process.  The music!  Listening to their sales pitch!  Waiting!

Waiting at the doctor’s office, at a traffic light, or a page to load.  Wait.  Wait.  Wait.  Such a waste of time.  Waiting ...

“Hey Mary.”

Yes.  Oh my.  What have I done now?

“Do I hear you complaining about waiting?”

Sorta.  I was on hold and the music sucked... oops.  The music was not my favorite genre.

“Do you ever make me wait?”

Me?  Make God wait?  I think that would be like a law, ordinance, or commandment.  I can hear you saying, “Thou shalt not keep God waiting.”

“You do have the best imagination.  Gabriel will chuckle when I tell him your comment.”

Do I make you wait?  Name one time ... better make that three times.

“Did you pray yesterday?”

Of course!  I got really busy...  maybe not.  Knew you would have one to zing at me.

“I waited all day.  You had much on your heart.  I wanted to help you.”

But .

“But what?  I have two more.”

But you have all the time in the world.  You’re just sitting around, so what if I .

“Mary, do you really want to finish that statement?  All I do is sit around?’

Maybe this would be a good time for me to wait instead of speaking.

“The key word is wait.  Humans seem to think waiting is a waste of time.  Waiting is a gift.”

A GIFT?  Do you have any idea how long 20 minutes or an hour or a day or a week is when you are sitting in a hospital waiting room?  Waiting — a gift?  Waiting can be pure hell! Especially when ..

“My child, I am in every waiting room.  In every operating room.  I did not say waiting was easy.  I said it is a gift.

Waiting allows you to pray and prepare.  Waiting allows you to make wise decisions.  Waiting allows you to realize I am there.”

I never thought about it that way.  There are times I should have waited before making a decision.  I am sorry I made you wait yesterday.  May I pray now?

“Of course.  I have all the time in the world.  I’m just sitting around.”

You are not going to forget I said that are you?

“Nope.  Just sitting here.  Nothing to do.  

Except listen to what is on your heart.”

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So often we complain about waiting, but waiting really is a gift.

Waiting gives us time to pray and to prepare.

Waiting gives us time to slow down, think, and make wise decisions.

Waiting gives us time to realize we are not alone.

 COFFEE

I do believe one of the best things God placed in my life is coffee!  I tell people that I will know I have died and gone to heaven when I hear, “Good morning Mary.  Here is your coffee.” ..... and I do not have to make a mad dash to the bathroom.

Coffee is my morning jumper cable.  There are morning people and there are night people.  I am an in-between people.  I do not hop out of bed before daylight ready to face the day.  I do not stay up till 2 or 3 AM on purpose.  But, I am, for sure, a hand-me-a-cup-of-coffee person.  Prior to coffee, my eyes open half way.  My ears are allergic to sound.  My mouth ... my mouth, a shock to many people, cannot make conversation.  My brain is in place waiting for me to hit the start button..aka coffee.

One sip and — just like that — there is life on the planet. 

I know people who are animated the minute their eyes open.  I know people who can function at 5:30 AM.   I know people who can get up and do their Bible reading.  How?  That, I do not know. 

Anyway, writing this made we think about other things God placed in my life.  Not the big things — mountains, the ocean, a rose — but the surprises that came with the big things.

I carried a child, in my womb, and thought that was a wonder, a miracle.  I felt joy and I felt humble and blessed.  A baby.  A gift.  Changing diapers and trying to rest.  And then the surprise.  That baby touched my cheek.  How could a touch ... there are no words.

As you all know, I love to travel.  I consider traveling a very big thing.  Yes, we take interstates, buy my real joy comes on back roads.  On streets through small towns.  I do not take our travels lightly.  They have been a blessing and have allowed us to see such wonders.  But there they sat.  In a small town, on a front step.  A daddy and daughter waiting on the school bus.  You could tell she was headed to school.  The backpack was there, full of books and lessons and the opportunity of learning.  The surprise was the absolute attention the father was giving his daughter.  There was no phone in his hand.  There was no looking around or checking his watch.  She had his undivided attention.  The love he was giving her ... there are no words.

Travel is a big thing, but when you combine travel with loved ones, it becomes a really, really big thing. Travel has included time spent on mother/daughter trips and mother/son cruises.  And trips to Florida with our daughter’s family.  I love that they take grandma along (Grandpa is usually in the field when we did the trips to Florida.) and on one trip we flew.  Tim, the youngest of four boys and 5 at the time, would have wanted to be with his brothers or walking with his dad, but that would have meant his mother would never know where Tim was.  It would not have worked to tell him to stay with grandma, BUT, if he was in charge of grandma, he would take that responsibility very seriously.  And he did.  He guided me through the scanner at the airport.  He sat beside me as we waited to board.  He made sure I was okay on the plane.  And you know what?  At the age of 17, he still holds my hand and meets me at the door with open arms and a hug ... there are no words.

We all know the big blessings ... the beauty of a sunset and sunrise.  The grandeur of the mountains and the vastness of the oceans.  BUT NEVER, NEVER, NEVER ignore the hidden blessings waiting for us.  A cup of coffee.  A child touching our cheek.  Seeing the total devotion of a father for his child.  The wonder of a grandchild’s hug.  There are no words to describe these surprise blessings.

 SIX WEEKS

Please know, our Pastor and I have a very good relationship.  I love his sermons and his sense of humor.  He is still trying to understand me.  (Good luck with that Pastor Larry.)  I want to thank him for this week’s blog.  You see...

I rarely disagree with him, but occasionally......  He wrote, in our church newsletter:  Halfway through February 2021, Lent begins.  Lent, like Advent, really has no Biblical basis.  The Bible records the events leading up to the death, burial and Resurrection of Christ, but there is no special significance to the six weeks prior.

Au contraire Pastor Larry, although there is no Biblical basis for Lent, those six weeks do have special significance.  Google says Lent is a season for sacrifice, repentance, and prayer.  I believe Google should say Lent is a season for preparation.  Those six weeks are significant because they were Jesus’ preparation time.  He had so much to accomplish during those last six weeks.   It would have been like trying to get all your work done before 5 o’clock Friday.

Disclaimer:  This is not an actual timeline of Jesus’ last six weeks.  These are taken from Matthew 16 -27 and John 17

The disciples had to learn so much in those last six weeks.  “Aware of their discussion, Jesus asked, “You of little faith, why are you talking among yourselves about having no bread? Do you still not understand?”

How could they not understand by now?  Peter had answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” but then rebuked Jesus when Jesus explained that he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.  I wonder if Jesus worried that six weeks might not be long enough to get them ready.

Peter, James, and John, the brother of James, were on the high mountain to witness the transfiguration.  The disciples listened as Jesus told them children are the greatest in the kingdom of heaven and that their Father in heaven is not willing that any of his sheep should parish.  They were confused when told that the last will be first and the first will be last.

So much to tell and explain and now even less time.  Jesus was instructing them using parables ... words and ideas they could relate to — The rich man ... Workers in the vineyard.  He healed.  And he arrived in Jerusalem.

Were the words “Hosanna to the Son of David!” and “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” bittersweet?  Jesus acted in ways the disciples had never seen.  He overturned the tables in the Temple and cursed a fig tree.  He used more parables, he warned about the end time, and explained the time was unknown.  Jesus was still preparing the world and 5 o’clock Friday was even closer.

Jesus was anointed and betrayed. Jesus prayed.

What would it have been like to have been heard Jesus pray?  How did his voice sound when he said, “Father, the hour has come.  Glorify your Son, that your Son may glorify you.”

What if the disciples had not been sleeping and would have heard Jesus speaking to his Father, “My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one.”

And Jesus prayed for believers, “Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.”

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Au contraire Pastor Larry, although there is no Biblical basis for Lent, those six weeks have special significance.  As does Advent.  They are both times of preparation.  During Advent, God prepared the world to receive His Son.  During Lent, Jesus prepared the world for Him to go home.  Never fear though, you redeemed yourself in the last sentences.

“Certainly, Christ died for the whole world.  But it is personal.  He died for me.  He was buried in a borrowed tomb because of my sin.  He rose from the dead to show me that He has power over death and to show me that death will not contain me.”

During those very significant six weeks, Jesus  taught, healed, prayed and died...so Pastor Larry could live ... so I could live ... so you could live.

 Church Pews

We attend a small rural church.  A church where everyone is welcome.  Hey, they welcomed me.  You knew exactly where to find your friends.  They sat in groups.  There was Orville’s family sitting on the right side.  Four generations attending church, with a daughter sitting beside her parents and a granddaughter sitting next to her grandma.  Sitting toward the back was Dean’s family.  This family surrounded their special needs son/brother with love. 

Multiple generations seems to be a theme.  You would find Max, a brother to Orville, sitting in a pew with his wife where they could see their grown daughters sitting together and see their son running the camera.

The church is made up of families, individuals and a special group of ladies I dubbed my “back row beauties.” This row of lovely ladies took me into their fold immediately.  I was 70 when we started attending and, I think, they looked at me as being like a daughter.  Honestly, some were old enough to be my mother.  Doris and Ethel, two sisters, along with other women, filled that pew with dignity and grace. 

Orville, Max, Dean, and Doris no longer sit in their pews.  During the last year, these four saints have died.  And I miss them.

My husband had many business dealings with Orville and Dean.  Their word was honest and true.  I did not know Max prior to coming to church, but I don’t think I ever saw him without a smile.  If that is not the case, do not tell me.  I want to remember this new friend  as I saw him.  He did try to look stern, but it was more of a crooked grin that made him look like he had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  

And Doris.  Doris has not been well and she stayed home for fear of catching Covid.  That broke my heart, because the back row did not look right.  Doris had offered me friendship when I first came and I missed my friend.  When I heard Doris had died, I was relieved.  Now I know Doris has her strength back.  Doris is no longer confined.  Doris has moved to a new pew, but I will always see her sitting with the “back row beauties.”

During the same time, we have told other family and friends goodbye and supported those that grieved.  We hold our memories in our hearts and we worship knowing our lives were enriched by each person who has left an empty place in our rural church pews.

 Where do you go in the middle of the night?

It is one.  Then two.  Then three.  The hands, on the clock, seem to stop.  All I want to do is SLEEP!  But I cannot.  

I get up and look out the window.  How can the night be so dark?  It is almost a new color.  Black is not deep enough to describe it.  The street lights are a soft glow, but their light only reaches so far.  All I want to do is SLEEP.

I walk around the house.  Maybe walking will help.  I tried leaning over the chair.  That usually helps, but not tonight.  The dark seems to come right through the windows.  I don’t want to turn on a light.  That will wake others.  All I want to do is SLEEP.

I go back to bed and find that sweet spot.  You know...where your body fits in the mattress and relaxes.  Surely I can sleep now.  But no...All I want to do is SLEEP.

                            =====

I have RLS:  Restless Leg Syndrome.  Thankfully, I have medicine that controls it - most of the time.  Before medicine, the above is a description of my nights.  Every night!  Before medicine, the minute I would sit down or try to relax, my legs would go nuts.  Before medicine, a car ride of more than 20 minutes could be pure torture.  Before medicine, forget sitting through a movie or a meeting.  Before medicine,  I would get, maybe, two hours of sleep.  Before medicine...

My mother had RLS and our son is getting it.  My mother walked miles inside her home.  One night she walked into a door and gave herself a black eye.  There are nights that I raise my fist toward heaven and angrily say, “Thanks mom!”  

My RLS started slowly.  I can remember the first time it hit.  Out of the blue, I had to move my leg.  Until then I did not understand when mom tried to describe how her legs felt.  It is impossible to explain.  It is impossible to understand.  It can be random.  Allowing me to go to a movie and sit still.  We can drive all day.  But, when it hits, I have to move.  

Before medicine, I slept on the couch more than in our bed.  I did not want to keep Bill awake.  And trying to lay still made it worse.  When mother had this and when mine first started, there was not even a name for it.  There were no medications.  Anyone with RLS just walked the floor and screamed, “All I want to do SLEEP!”

I knew I had to do something when I found myself headed to the kitchen and thinking, “If I take a knife up the back of my leg it will quit.  It will stop.”  I woke Bill up because it scared me to think I might have tried that.  I went to the doctor.  Thankfully, my doctor believed me.  I started on medication in 2006 and it works, most of the time.  When it doesn’t, I stand at the window and look out.  Trying to find hope through that very deep black night.

                         =====

I am writing this to point out that many people have, what I call, invisible diseases.  Diseases that others cannot see and even doctors do not understand.  Yes, doctors, some doctors anyway, now recognize RLS as a medical condition.  But not in the beginning.  And even now, there are doctors that will tell a person suffering from RLS to quit drinking wine and get exercise.  I would not wish RLS on anyone, except those doctors.  I wish they would have it for a week.   

I am very fortunate.  First, I have a very understanding and supportive husband.  RLS can destroy a marriage and sleep deprivation can impact the ability to work.  Second, medicine will control mine, most of the time.  Third, I have found things that help.  I work jigsaw puzzles, while watching TV.  I work at the computer.  For some strange reason, keeping my hands busy seems to help, sometimes.  I can get relief in a rocking chair, sometimes.  Forth, the medical community now recognizes RLS as a medical condition.  They are not sure what causes it, but agree that low levels of iron, in the brain, is a contributing factor.  Sadly, there is no good way to raise those levels.  Iron shots help some people and not others.  I take a medicine that is for Parkinson’s, but that does not help others and comes with side effects.  While on this medicine, I will not shed any pounds.  

I have written on this before and doing so again, because I want you to understand that many people suffer from invisible diseases.  To look at me, you might not know that I did not sleep last night and that I am exhausted.  To look at me, you might think I need to shed a few pounds, or more.  To look at one of my friends, you might not realize she has fibromyalgia and that every part of her body hurts.  What about those with diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis, migraines, vertigo, chronic pain or fatigue, endometriosis, depression, spinal disorders, Crohn’s disease, allergies, or anxiety. These are just a few.  To look at these people, you might not know that they are hurting and wonder why no one understands.  That no one realizes how pain can invade a body.  How endometriosis can change your life and no one can see the scars.  I want you to understand that people suffer from invisible diseases.  And they are real!

Are you still wondering about me thinking a knife up the back of my leg might help?  I thought if I told people that they would think I was crazy.  Then I found a group page. Almost every person tells the same story:  There was this one night, it was so dark it could only be called deep black,  and I thought if I could cut my leg or even cut them off it would stop.  

And I realized...I am not crazy.  I found people who understand.  I found a page on Facebook where it is very common to see a post:  My legs are going nuts.  It is two o’clock.  All I want to do is SLEEP.

JOY PART 4

After discussing joy found at church and at home, we discussed how we give joy to others.  This Sunday, the discussion was on finding our joy again.  Like it or not, sometimes our joy disappears.  It can be because we are physically, emotionally, and mentally tired or life is beating us down or we have stepped off the path and out of the light.

What can we do to find our joy?

What is the first step?

It was no surprise that the first word was prayer followed by asking others to pray for you.  Having Christian brothers helped one man out of the valley.  Staying positive is a small first step.  Being around positive people and taking care of yourself is important.  Staying away from “Debbie Downer” is a must.

One woman informed the class that she works her way back to joy.  “I clean the house,” she said.  “Work helps keep my mind off my problems.  It redirects my thoughts.”  Every class member offered her the use of their home as therapy.

Depression can be a problem and will replace your joy with a very dark place.  When this happens, reach out for help and realize medication could be the only answer.  Do not be afraid to talk about depression, because you might be the answer to another person’s prayer.

What can stand in the way of finding our way back to joy?  FEAR!  Mark Twain said, “I’ve lived through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened.”  Thinking the worst is a trick the devil uses.  Rushing into decisions or situations can stop us from finding joy.  Often, not admitting there is a problem or that you need to see a doctor keeps us from finding our joy.  Talking to the wrong person can lead us in the wrong direction. 

Which means talking to the right person can help.  One lady talks to the Pastor to make sure what she is thinking is Biblical and they pray.  When talking with others, make sure they will not judge you, are trustworthy, will listen, and not try to solve the problem for you.  If someone comes to you, actually hear them and do not reply with “stock” phrases.  Mainly, never forget, God can handle all we feel and fear.

A good point was made that the return of joy might not be instantaneous.  It took a bit of time to get into the valley and it will take a bit of time to climb out.  Also, all valleys are not deep and you cannot stay on a mountaintop forever. 

We closed by telling what we had gotten from the last four weeks.  Everyone realized they had more joy than they realized.  Laughter was at the top of the list and simple things.  We are not alone and tomorrow will start with the light of a new day.

TOP TWO ITEMS --- God and Light

When we have lost our joy, remember God wants us to be filled with joy and has surrounded us with ways to help us reclaim our joy.  Do not be afraid to talk to your minister or family or friends.  Talk to God.  Be patient.  Pray.  Joy is all around us and will be found again!  We just have to shine a light into the darkness.

The light calms our fears and shows the way out of the valleys. 

Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.  Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say:  Here am I.     Isaiah 58:8-9

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

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.  2Corinthians 4:6

BUT REMEMBER – a flashlight will not work.  It has to be the light of God!  So, pray, take the hand of a trusted advisor, and walk toward joy.  God has his light on the path.