Friday, August 8, 2008

a light for my path

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." psalm 119:105

i think Scripture is best "digested" one word at a time. at least, instead of quickly skimming a verse or two here and there, i think it's best to, first and foremost, read the passage in context with the surrounding (and the rest of!) Scripture, and, secondly, to meditate on each word individually, gradually strringing them together (as one would string beads upon a necklace) to create meaning, and eventually viewing the words (and their meanings) as a whole. much like putting together the pieces of a puzzle - you examine the piece at hand individually before you can find what it matches with (and i'm sure that analogy breaks down at some point).

what's interesting about this particular piece of Scripture (psalm 119:105) is the word "light." the hebrew word for "light" here ("Your word is...a LIGHT to my path...") denotes a certain kind of light - a dim light.

imagine this: you are standing in the middle of a black abyss. you feel nothing but the ground beneath your feet. you see nothing but a dimly lit patch of light that shines (dimly :) ) on your feet. there is just enough light to see the ground that you're standing on; not enough light to look behind you to see where you came from and not enough light to see beyond your feet to know where you are going.

we are each on a path. a path to somewhere. we have no choice in the matter. and this path? it's the Light that determines it; it's the Light that carves your path out of the otherwise directionless soild. so, you have three options:

1) you can stand there, in your path. motionless. hopeless. doubtful of the Light. too scared to try. after all, the Light can hurt you. and standing there may feel good for a while - knowing that you can't possibly get hurt by standing still. but, in the end, standing still gets you nowhere and the adventure of your path (all the ups and downs) is no longer a path, but rather an ending in itself.

2) or, you could trust in yourself. but wait. "yourself" has no control over this Light. It has a mind of It's own. undoubtedly, many of us would try to remove ourselves from the situation, claiming, "it's too hard! i can't see where i'm going! this isn't fair! why me, o Light?!," and thus make a failed attempt to back-track in the darkness, back to wherever it was you came. but, how would you know when you got there? it is dark, remember. even if you managed to walk succesfully, without the Light, you'd probably end up walking around in circles without even knowing it. or you could try to rush ahead and just get where you're going! but, you might run into something because you wouldn't be paying attention to the dim light just beyond your toes.

3) finally, you could take a deep breath, putting your trust in and having faith in the Light, and take a step. and then another. slowly, but surely, you'd make your way to wherever it is the Light may take you.

you make the choice who you put your faith in. it's either going to be nothing, you, or the Light. there are no in betweens.

each of our lives are different. we aren't the same and therefore, the Light does not give us identical paths. maybe the Light takes me over rocky path, maybe even mountainous at times, while the Light permits your path to be straight and smooth.

and even the best of friends may have different paths. the Light may take one low and It may zig-zag him about, making him wonder and worry about whether the Light knows what It is doing afterall. his companion, however, may find joy in wakling the path that the Light gives him, which is "smooth sailing," but he is apt to encourage the first that perhaps the Light will eventually even his path out...and, even if It doesn't, the Light knows what It is doing. or maybe even the best of friends seem to have the same paths - they rejoice when the Light has broughten them together over solid ground and lament together (with hope) over rocky soil.

and sometimes the Light allows our paths cross other's paths. maybe briefly or for but just a moment. maybe, just maybe, you'll be lucky enough to find a handful of people to whom the Light has given paths are parallel to yours, headed, side-by-side, in the same direction. you may not be able to see them (it's dark and there is only a dim light illuminating each step you take, remember? :) ), but, somehow, the Light assures you that they're there.

and there will be times where others reach the end of their paths that the Light has given them, and you'll reach yours, too. a few will reach the end of their paths and, by some glorious miracle, will rejoice in their final destination, knowing that the patches of rough terrain were all worth it, and remembering with fondness, the joy of the level terrain. they will thank the Light and enjoy It forever.

most, however, will come to their path's end realizing that they somehow ended up in the darkness, separated from the Light, never to be found again. selfishly thinking they deserved better than the Light could give them, they had rebelled against the light and chose not to follow it, or maybe even stumbled about in the darkness just to spite the Light.

regardless of who we are, we have all, at one point, rebelled against the Light. it's the few of us who eventually figure out we're wrong that joyfully follow the Light and reach the glorious end.

perhaps the ones who rebelled and chose not to follow the Light in the end go around the rocky parts that would have gotten them closer to where the Light wanted them - closer to the glorious end.

but, all's fair. a choice is a limitation, afterall. if you choose one thing, you're choosing to forsake the rest. good or bad, we each chose the outcome of our own path. we can chose to wrecklessly follow ourselves, instead of the Light (afterall, It's only there to help us; It is illuminating and knows the way to the glorious end; we do not), or we can chose to walk in the dimness of the only Light we do have - there is no other Light; there is no other way to salvation from the darkness.

1 comment:

Cindy said...

Very nice Lauren. Love, MOM