Tag: light

Dust and Light

This morning the sun streamed through our eastern windows across the reddish cement floor. Our country home in Central California gathers more dirt than a hen fluffing her feathers in a dust bowl! That early morning light suddenly brought to life all manner of debris that had remained invisible until the sun caught it strewn across the floor.

I have the most amazing broom. I even watched it being crafted on a nearby farm by Don’s friend, Duane. So the broom and I went to work, sweeping and scooping up all those fertile dust bunnies, my hair, crumbs, and dirt. Whew!

I stood for a moment in those sun-rays myself, marveling at the parallel between this discovery and our own messy lives. We can become completely unaware of our critical attitudes, anxious thoughts, little resentments, and, well—sins, actually. Unless the light of Jesus shines on us from time to time, those wicked little vices can grow like fleas on a dog!

I know about that, too. Those pesky critters require repeated attention because they keep reproducing. Sometimes our spiritual housekeeping seems much the same.

Back to the dust and the light. If the sunlight falls across our dark-stained furniture, it reveals another daily dose of dust, especially during almond harvesting. Those nut farmers stir up more dust than a Kansas twister!

But the point of all this is not the dust. It is the light. We don’t always recognize the dirt in our lives until the Light reveals it.

Dust Doesn’t Announce Its Presence

Before the sunlight streamed across our floor, the dust was there, but I wasn’t aware of it. Just so, we can go about our days feeling quite content with ourselves, unaware of the resentments, critical thoughts, impatient responses, or selfish attitudes that have quietly accumulated.

Sometimes we need the Lord to change the lighting, so to speak.

David understood the need for that kind of examination when he prayed:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts: And see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23–24, KJV).

David wasn’t merely asking God to show him what was wrong. He was asking God to lead him somewhere better.

I wonder how often I am content to let the Lord examine the obvious places in my heart while carefully avoiding the corners where I suspect something unpleasant might be hiding.

The Light Reveals, but It Doesn’t Clean

This is another something about light I had never thought of quite this way. Recognizing our sin is not the same as dealing with it. Once the light reveals the dust, I have to pick up that wonderful broom and get to work!

Spiritually, the Lord’s conviction invites us to respond through confession, repentance, and a willingness to change. We don’t clean ourselves up to earn His love. We respond because we belong to Him and are deeply loved by Him.

First John 1:9 reminds us, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (KJV).

What a promise! God does not expose our sin to leave us wallowing in shame. He brings it into the light so that we can confess it, receive His forgiveness, and walk in freedom.

And we may need that light more than once. I can sweep the floor this morning, and tomorrow there will be more dust. During almond harvesting, it may seem as though I never swept at all!

Our hearts need regular examination, too. We may deal with one attitude only to discover another lurking in the shadows. The Christian life is not a once-and-for-all sweeping of every corner of our hearts. It is a continuing walk with the Lord, allowing Him to reveal, forgive, and transform us day by day.

What About Those Shadows?

After sweeping, I thought more about the places where dust hides—under couches and beds especially! We usually have to get down on our knees with a flashlight to see what has accumulated beneath them.

Think about that for a moment. We all have hidden places in our hearts that we seldom examine. Sometimes we avoid them because we suspect what we might find there.

But we need not be afraid of the light when the One shining it upon us is also our Redeemer.

Jesus tells us in John 3:20–21 that those who practice evil avoid the light, while those who practice truth come to it. I don’t want to hide from what God reveals. I want to bring it into His presence.

He already knows every thought, every attitude, and every secret sin. So why not agree with Him about what is unacceptable to a holy and righteous God? Our sinful attitudes can destroy love, joy, and peace—the very fruit the Holy Spirit desires to produce in us.

The trouble with dirt is that, while we aren’t looking, it accumulates in the shadows. What we have neglected may eventually become impossible to ignore. An unconfessed resentment may surface in an unkind remark. An attitude we have excused may spill out at the most unexpected and inappropriate time.

Believe me. I’ve been there.

That is why I love Psalm 103:2–5, which reminds us not to forget the Lord’s benefits. He forgives our iniquities, heals our diseases, redeems our lives from destruction, crowns us with lovingkindness and tender mercies, and satisfies us with good things so that our strength is renewed.

What a merciful God we serve! The same Lord who reveals our sin is the Lord who forgives, restores, and renews us.

John puts it beautifully:

“God is light, and in him is no darkness at all” (1 John 1:5, KJV).

He goes on to tell us that if we walk in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin (1 John 1:7).

So let us not hide in the shadows or make excuses for our dirt. Let us get down on our knees and ask the Lord to shine His light on our hearts.

Roy Hession’s book Calvary Road has deeply challenged me to take sin seriously rather than excuse it. He writes, “The blood does not cleanse excuses, but it always cleanses sin, confessed as sin.” The passage explains that walking in the light means recognizing our pride, hardness, doubt, fear, and self-pity as sin rather than dismissing them as merely human reactions. Jesus did not go to the cross so that I could defend my sin, but so that I could be forgiven and set free from it. 

One important distinction: not every unwanted thought or feeling is necessarily a sin. Sometimes the light reveals grief, fear, or weariness that needs the Lord’s comfort rather than correction. His light reveals what is there, and His wisdom shows us how to respond. James 1:5 assures us that if we lack wisdom, we may ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault.

I don’t know about you, but I need that wisdom every day.

And tomorrow morning, when the sun streams across my floor and reveals another rabbit hutch of dust bunnies, I hope I will remember that the Lord’s searching light is a gift, not a threat. He loves me too much to leave me unaware of what needs His cleansing touch.

LORD, shine Your light on me. Reveal what I have ceased to see. Show me the attitudes I have excused, the resentments I have tucked away, and the corners of my heart I have neglected. Then, by Your grace, help me to sweep them clean and walk in the way everlasting.

Amen.

Posted on by MarJean Knaak 1

New Year Thoughts on Light and Salt

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

Posted on by MarJean Knaak 2