This little light

​He awoke struggling to breath.  The air was full of dirt and dust and at first he thought it was the dust and dirt that made the room dark but the longer he lay awake, the more he realized that the darkness was not leaving.  

He slowly became aware of the pain in his head; he rubbed his head and found the spot quickly.  He felt gingerly, feeling if the was bleeding because the darkness was so black that he could not see anything.  He was amazed at how the darkness affected his ability to even sense his own body.  He slowly ran his fingers over his body to see if there were any other injuries, any places where he was cut or bleeding and he found none.  He raised his hands around him to see if he could sit up, and awkwardly sat up.  

​What happened?  Where am I?  His thoughts raced and he sat alone in the darkness.  He was afraid to move, he couldn't see anything.   He thought his eyes would eventually adjust to his surrounding and that he would be able to see a little but the longer he sat there the more he realized that was futile.  He was in total darkness.  He could not see a thing.

​His head was really throbbing; he gently rubbed the large bump on the back of his head.  He touched the spot and slowly touched his fingers to his mouth to see if there was blood, but he tasted none.  Other than the bump on his head, he was not hurt but the darkness was overwhelming.  He could see nothing and the darkness seemed to even affect his memory.  It was so dark, he felt so alone, more alone that he could remember.  At that thought a small flicker seemed to happen in his brain.  He had not been alone; there had been someone with him.  He brain seemed to stutter into action.  Who had he been with?  

​And then as if someone turned on his brain, he remembered a name. He had been exploring a cave with his good friend Tom.  It was something that they had done before in this very cave.  There had been a cave-in.  The roof had given way and … that’s all he could remember.

​“Tom,” he thought suddenly, “Where is Tom?”

​He spun his head around the room hoping he would sense his friend but but he sensed nothing but the darkness.   He called out Tom’s name but there was no answer.  He was frantic, where was Tom?  Was he hurt?  Was he lying right next to him but because of the darkness he could not make out his friend? What if he is bleeding to death right over there?  He screamed again, “Tom where are you?”  

But no one answered his call.

​He started to crawl around to see if he could find his friend  but he ran into  the solid wall of the cave.  When we began to feel his way around the wall of the cave, he pushed on a rock and it started a small rumble of rocks falling down around him.  He froze.  He could not afford to have more rocks fall on top of him.  He was fortunate that he only had the bump on his head.  At least he was alive even if he was a prisoner in the total darkness of the cave.

​He sat back against the solid wall of the cave and starred out into the darkness, trying to see something.  He shuddered in the darkness.  He wasn’t really cold but the darkness was horrible.  It engulfed him, holding him in it’s icy grip .  He put his hand up to his face and no matter how close he held his hand to his eye, he could not see he hand.

​He screamed out “help” but no one answered.  He thought he heard a moan but then realized it was the cave moaning as rocks crushed rocks and the  dirt shifted.   The earth moaned under the new strain of the cave in.

​How he was panicked!    His mind raced through countless scenarios and none of them seemed good.  What if Tom were trapped on the other side of the slide, blocked in just like he was with no escape?  What if he was dead, buried under the rock side?  Who knew where they were?  Had they told anyone that they were going exploring?  He could not remember, his memory was still fuzzy.   Surely they had told someone.  How long till they were missed?  How much oxygen was there in the cave he was in?  How large was the space.  It seemed tight and small in the total darkness.  How big was the slide?  Could they dig him out without another slide?  How long would he have to stay here in total darkness and all alone?

​How long he sat there he did not know, it seemed like an eternity.  Occasionally the earth would moan and he could hear more rocks and dirt falling but other than the earth crying out, there was no sound.  He had to use his brain to tell if his eyes were open or not, for he could still see nothing.  The air seemed okay but it was still filled with dirt and dust so he used part of his shirt for a wrap around his mouth and nose.  It helped a little with his breathing but the sense of loneliness overwhelmed him.  

​He had never known a feeling like this.  It overcame him like a wave in the ocean, totally covering his being… hopeless.  Yes, he thought to himself with discouraging a thought, hope less.  Never before had he felt so alone, so helpless, so hopeless.  Here he sat, in total darkness, all alone, in the deepest part of a cave, trapped by a cave in, not knowing if anyone even knew if he was alive or dead.  No matter how hard he tried, these thoughts kept returning to his hopeless situation.  

​Suddenly the earth shudder again, rocks began to shake and the man covered his head with his hands and drew his legs close to his chest.  From the sound he could tell that the movement of the rocks was across the room from where he was, which did bring him some comfort.  The air was full of dust and debris, so he closed his eyes and waited a long while before he opened them again.  When he finally opened his eyes he blinked his eyes for a few seconds.  From across the room he would see a tiny beam of light shining from beneath the ruble.   He blinked his eyes a couple of time again to be sure that it was not his imagination or his mind playing tricks on him but the could see the dust swirling round the room as it settled.  

​He was amazed at how much the little beam of light brightened  up the room.  He could now see the path across the floor to where the beam of light was shining through the ruble.  In just a few seconds he could make out the walls of the room where he was trapped, he could see the mounds of rocks lying across the pathway that would lead him out of the cave.  He shook his head wondering why he was not crawling towards the light and then he was quickly crawling across the floor towards the source of the light.  He reached the other side and began to carefully move the rocks out of the way to get to the light.

​His heart was saddened when he realized that he could not get to the light.  He did discover that the source of the light was his helmet that he was wearing when the cave in occurred.  He was positive that the helmet had saved his life considering how sore his head was.  He moved as much debris as he could so that more of the light could fill the room.  When he finished he crawled back across the room to what appeared to be the most solid and safest place to be.  As he sat there he considered how much more encouraged he was because of a little beam of light shining brightly through all the debris.  One little beam of light had given him hope.  One little beam of light had allowed him to see his surrounds, to realize that the room was large and that there should be plenty of air to breath.  He found his ears listening more attentively to the sounds of those that would soon be coming to rescue him.  His fear was gone; he was no longer shaking as if he were freezing to death.  He had hope all because of a little light shining through the darkness.

​

We are the light of the World.  In the midst of all the darkness around us, let me challenge you to the that light that lights the way to the Savior.

On the hopeless side of the fence

The little boy pressed his face as hard as he could against the bars that surrounded the palace.  Through the bars he could see the finely manicured lawns, the bright green grass, the beautifully colored flowers.  He could hear the running water from the huge fountains that graced the royal lawn. The fragrance of a thousand blooming flowers gently floated in the breeze and filled his nose with such wonderful aromas; smells he had never smelled before.  

There seemed to be nothing out of place. Everything was spotless and beautiful.  The palace was made of the finest marble. It glistened in the sunlight.  The huge doors were carved with a thousand designs, so many and so small he could hardly distinguish one from another.  On either side of the doors stood soldiers at attention.  Thier uniforms were spotless. Their weapons were gleaming. Their boots were polished to a brilliant black sheen.  The silver ornamentations on their uniforms reflected the sunlight like brilliant stars on a summer night.  The windows of the palace were the biggest windows he had ever seen and they were covered in stained glass with scenes of the majestic peaks of the kingdom.  As the young boy stared at the windows, he could imagine himself atop those majestic peaks, looking down at the small villages that dotted the kingdom.  

Even the bars he was pressing against were painted a shiny black.  There was not one spot of rust or discoloration on any of the rungs of the huge metal fence that surrounded the palace.  It was not like his home in the poorest part of the village.

As he turned his back on the palace, he glanced towards the part of town where he lived.  Plain brown mud huts were all he could see.  The streets around the palace were paved with white crushed rocks; the curbs lined with trees and shrubs.  The street in front of his house was a dirt path lined with rocks covered in mud and brush.  There was nothing desirable about living on his street.  All of the houses looked the same.  The only time things looked different was when his mother did the wash and hung out the clothes on the line.  At least on laundry day there were two colors, dull white and dull brown in the neighborhood instead of just dull brown.

He slowly walked towards the main gate to see if he could catch a  glimpse of the interior of the palace and just as he got to where he could see in, the huge doors opened and some people came out.  They stood on the huge white marble steps of the palace and the servants left the door open while they talked.  He stared at the interior of the palace.  The walls were as white as the outside of the palace, glistening from the huge chandelier that hung in the hallway.  Large pictures of the royal family lined the hall.  The doorways were massive, outlined with white marble posts.  Royal attendants scampered around, each doing his or her particular duty to the best of his ability. Their clothing was fascinating to him, considering his own dull attire.  They wore brilliant white shirts, black coats or aprons and shoes, yes shoes, on their feet.  He glanced down at his  feet, dusty and dirty from the streets he walked, and wondered what if felt like to wear shoes.  He noticed their hair, and felt his own. Theirs seemed perfect; his uncut and very unkept. Everything about the servants said that they lived better than he did.  Maybe he would never be the king, but maybe, just maybe someday he could figure out a way to get a job at the palace.  He would gladly become a servant if he could live in the palace and dress like they did.

As he watched, a carriage came to pick up some of the people on the steps.  He did not know who they were, but they were definitely not servants.  They were dressed in the finest clothes he had ever seen.  The jewelry sparkled from the ladies' rings and necklaces. He saw the biggest ring he had ever seen on the hand of one of the men  and when he moved his hand, he flashed what looked like a lightning bolt as the sun reflected the huge diamond mounted on his finger.

He had never seen anything like the carriage that had been brought around to pick up the guest.  Every part was polished, glimmering.  The polished reigns were as black as could be; the buckles all made of silver.  The interior was velvet, light blue like the sky and when the door was opened, he could see the pillows on the seats.  It was a far cry from the wagon his father used to bring his vegetables to market.  And the horses, how magnificent.  He had never seen such big and strong animals in his life.  Their manes were tied with ribbons and their tails braided.  Even their hooves were polished.  "What I would give to be one of the boys who takes care of such wonderful horses" he thought to himself. "I would be willing to sleep in the barn if I could take care of horses like that."

Even the driver on the carriage was dressed immaculately.  He carried himself with an air of respect, opening the door, helping the people into the carriage, closing the door,  climbing up on the carriage, and gently encouraging the horses to pull the carriage.  Oh,  what I would give to be the man who drives that carriage.  Look at those beautiful horses, how majestically they trot, how beautiful is the carriage.  He thought of the old mule his father owned, how slow and cantankerous it was, how unglamorous was the rope that his father used to guide the mule to the market.

"I wonder what it is like to meet the King?  I wonder what the room where he works looks like..."  the young man thought to himself.  "I wonder how big his bedroom is?  What size bed does he sleep on?  How many blankets does he have?  I wonder how many clothes he has...or shoes.  Oh my, I wonder how many pairs of shoes the King has?  I'll bet there must be hundreds!"

"How big is the table in the dining room of the King?  I wonder how much food the king eats, or what kinds of food he eats."  He remembered his breakfast, lunch and supper of a bowl of rice.  Occasionally they would have a little meat in the rice.  "I bet the king has meat with every meal it he wants to."

"And I'll bet he has cold milk.  Nice cold milk to drink.  Just think...cold milk."

The gate was opened by more guards, all dressed in the fanciest of official gear.  The carriage rumbled down the street. The guards slowly closing the gate with great military fanfare.  The young boy had never seen anything like the palace, the grounds, the soldiers, the servants, the clothing, the carriage, the horses...It was almost too much for him to take in.  He started to back away from the palace and turn towards his home of dirt floors, mud and straw walls, and a bed of rough woven ratan.  

He went back to the fence and put his arm between the bars and reached as far as he could towards the palace, trying, for just a moment, to imagine what it would feel like if he were on the other side of the fence.  His thoughts were interrupted by the call of the guard, "Put your arms back on the other side, young man!" the guard yelled roughly.

As he walked away, he told himself, "I shall never see inside the palace.  I shall never wear clothing like that.  I shall never drive a team of horses as beautiful as those.  I shall never be able to lay down on such green grass.  I shall never be able to grow flowers as beautiful as those in the palace garden.  There is no way that I shall ever come any closer to the wonders of the palace than standing at the fence, looking in.  That is as close as I shall ever come.  

He turned towards the colorless side of town, his bare feet trudging through the dust, his head down, tears streaming down his small cheeks as he accepted the reality that he was on the outside looking in.  He would never enjoy the life of the palace.  He was on the hopeless side of the fence.

It is our privilege to minister to many who feel like they are on the hopeless side of the fence.  God, in his mercy, has saved us from our sins through his Son and has commissioned us to walk along the fence and share with others about how they can leave hopelessness behind and enjoy the wonder of the palace of the King.

But wait, there's more. Not only can they enjoy the palace of the King, the King wants to adopt them and make them joint heirs with His Son.  From hopeless...to heirs of the King.  

Who do you know...who will you meet this week that needs to hear that they do not need to be on the hopeless side?  A way has been made to enter the Palace of the King.