AS WE STEP INTO THE NEW YEAR, many of us are thinking about rest, renewal, and what truly guides us through the darkness. A sleepless night—and a bedroom full of glowing gadgets—became an unexpected reminder of Jesus’ call to be light in a dark world. This reflection invites us to begin the year not by striving harder, but by abiding deeper, allowing His light to shine through us in quiet, faithful ways.
When a Little Light Keeps You Awake
I like a dark room in order to sleep—and stay asleep. Actually, let’s be honest—I need a dark room. Don, ever the practical one, says, “Just close your eyes.” That’s adorable. If it were that simple, the sleep industry would collapse overnight.
As a new year begins, I’ve been thinking about rest—real rest. Not just sleep, but soul rest. And I didn’t expect the Lord to use my bedroom to get my attention, but here we are.
When we finally turn off the ceiling light and bedside lamps, it’s dark for maybe three seconds before the glow show begins. The bedside clock shines like a spotlight. The smoke detector blinks as if to say, “Still awake?” The carbon monoxide detector joins in. Blue lights from air purifiers glow on both sides of the room, the motion detector’s red eye keeps watch, and even the microwave shines from the corner (for heating pads… because, well, life).
Add in my phone lighting up with notifications, my Fitbit flashing when I move, Don’s C-Pap machine with its friendly yellow beacon, and chargers for everything plugged into a power strip that twinkles like Christmas—and sleep suddenly feels optional.
I’ve tried covering lights. I’ve tried moving things. I’ve even tried wearing red goggles to block blue light when I prayer journal at night. Between the goggles and my C-Pap, I’m quite a sight—definitely not romantic. Don, on the other hand, prefers a little light so he won’t bump into things if he gets up at night. And honestly, I understand.
Years ago, when I was single, the power went out after I got up at night, and I couldn’t find the bed in the pitch black. Completely disoriented, I felt my way through the darkness like a confused bat. Thankfully, I didn’t get hurt. Don would be another story.
Light in the Darkness
All this nighttime illumination has followed me right into the new year—and it’s reminded me of something Jesus said:
“You are the light of the world.”
That stopped me.
If a tiny charger light can keep me awake, what might even a small reflection of Jesus’ light do in a spiritually dark world? His light in us isn’t meant to decorate our lives—it’s meant to flow through them. It’s His presence, quietly but powerfully at work.
As a new year begins, many are tired. Many are confused. Many are searching for solid ground. We see it everywhere—disorientation, discouragement, hearts stumbling in the dark.
And yet—even the faintest glow of Christ’s truth shining through a willing heart can awaken something in another soul. It can stir hope. It can point the way home. People may trip over the truth at first—but if the light keeps shining, some will eventually see that the very thing they stumbled over is the only thing that can save them.
Salt, Light, and the Work of the Heart
It’s no accident that Jesus talks about salt and light right after the Beatitudes. The order matters.
Before He calls us “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world,” He blesses the heart attitudes that reflect His own life within us. The Beatitudes aren’t goals to strive for in the new year; they’re evidence of what Jesus produces when we abide in Him.
Poverty of spirit. Mourning over sin. Meekness. Hunger for righteousness. Mercy. Purity of heart. Peacemaking. These aren’t boxes to check—they’re fruit that grows when Christ is at work in us.
Only then does His influence naturally flow through us.
Salt preserves and creates thirst.
Light reveals, guides, and gently exposes.
Jesus isn’t asking us to try harder this year. He’s inviting us to stay closer.
Awake on Purpose
So maybe my glow-in-the-dark bedroom is a small parable for January.
The world is full of little lights that keep us awake physically. But Jesus calls us to be a light that keeps people awake spiritually—to shine just enough for hearts to notice Him.
And maybe, when I wake in the night surrounded by all those blinking gadgets, I can quietly pray,
“Okay, Lord—I see the lesson. You’ve made me light-sensitive for a reason.”
May this new year find us resting in Him, walking closely with Him, and shining—not because we’re trying to—but because His light lives in us.
“Arise, shine, for your light has come,
and the glory of the LORD rises upon you.”
—Isaiah 60:1