Sometimes I feel like a candle in a dark and windy world.
Struggling to keep my flame alive…barely having enough light to share or time to care.
A short flame, threatening to burn out, to disappear. Surrounded by darkness – millions of candles that have never felt the warm glow on their own lives.
I desperately try to force the same few candles to accept the light, but they wave me away so vigorously that my own small fire threatens to burn out.
Tending to my precarious flame causes me to ignore the faint cry from so many other candles – silently screaming for someone to share the light with them.
Light of hope. Of peace. Of Love. Just one encounter, one word, one ray of light.
Then it happens. I remember. I am not the source. I have nothing. I am nothing. I need, so very much need to plug into the real Light. To attach myself to the Lamp that burns so bright and true. To dip my wick on the Oil of Life.
Then, the miraculous happens. My light shines strong and God is glorified. I am empowered with love and wisdom.
I hear that voice crying and the True Light goes with me to bring a dark soul into glorious light.
Not me. Never me. The Light of the world is JESUS.