The Light at the End of the Tunnel

I see it  Hope it’s not a train.

Waiting on a train. Sorry, no tunnel.

This week’s blog theme started with me writing down a verse during Sunday’s sermon. As I attempted to recall it without my notes I said Ecclesiastes 3:17 maybe?

I said to myself,

“God will bring into judgment
    both the righteous and the wicked,
for there will be a time for every activity,
    a time to judge every deed.”

Bahaha! Nope.

My notes said Ecclesiastes 11:17. Go look it up.

Ha! It doesn’t exist. But Ecclesiastes 11:7 (NIV) …

Light is sweet,
    and it pleases the eyes to see the sun.

I like the sun. I don’t accomplish nearly enough beach trips to commune with the sun and the sand and the water. Continuing on to verse 8 for good measure, though …

However many years anyone may live,
    let them enjoy them all.
But let them remember the days of darkness,
    for there will be many.
    Everything to come is meaningless.

The groovy version of the bible says (MSG) …

Oh, how sweet the light of day,
And how wonderful to live in the sunshine!
Even if you live a long time, don’t take a single day for granted.
Take delight in each light-filled hour,
Remembering that there will also be many dark days
And that most of what comes your way is smoke.

Ah Ecclesiastes, I do love your existential moodiness.

A friend posted a passage from John 1 in the Message version, so I started reading through that chapter again.

What came into existence was Life,
    and the Life was Light to live by.
The Life-Light blazed out of the darkness;
    the darkness couldn’t put it out …

The Life-Light was the real thing:
    Every person entering Life
    he brings into Light.

Blazed out of the darkness. Yeehaw.

It pleases the eyes to see the sun.

Current situation. A little difficult to tell, but there ain’t no sun out there. Rain is dripping (pouring?) off the awning.

How wonderful to live in the sunshine.

I loved being outside as a child. My parents say I would get as brown as an Indian in the summer. In today’s hypersensitive environment I’m bound to be accused of racism for that comment, but as a direct descendant of Pocahontas … in spite of my current state of extreme paleness … pretty sure I inherited the Irish pastiness gene from the melting pot … I feel I have a right to appropriate that aesthetic because I lived it and I am it.

Maize anyone?

With a side of potatoes and sauerkraut?

But I digress with run-on sentences.

These days I wear my SPF30 or 50 like a good girl when I’m becoming one with the sun. I was never a baby-oil-slathering, go-for-leather-skin-by-age-thirty person, but I think SPF15 was about as strong as we had. I vaguely recall an SPF7 or thereabouts or maybe it was SPF4 for building a tan purposes. Playing in the pool all day, followed by whining about picking green beans in my grandparents’ garden, followed by one last jump in the water if we moved fast enough was a common occurrence in my childhood.

I don’t have any green beans to pick, but my plate overfloweth right now. I’m just gonna sign off and keep my eyes fixed on the blazing life-light …

 

Let there be light. And let it not be trimmed in brass.

Keep looking up.

For more thoughts on lights and tunnels and such from my writing partners, see Sue Bowles at bebold7.wordpress.com and Leisa Herren at life4inga.blogspot.com.

Where could I go, where could I run

Even if I found the strength to fly

And if I rose on the wings of the dawn

And crashed through the corner of the sky

If I sailed past the edge of the sea

Even if I made my bed in Hell

Still there You would find me

'Cause nothing is beyond You

You stand beyond the reach

Of our vain imaginations

Our misguided piety

The heavens stretch to hold You

And deep cries out to deep

Singing that nothing is beyond You

Nothing is beyond You

Time cannot contain You

You fill eternity

Sin can never stain You

Death has lost its sting

And I cannot explain the way You came to love me

Except to say that nothing is beyond You

Nothing is beyond You

If I should shrink back from the light

So I can sink into the dark

If I take cover and I close my eyes

Even then You would see my heart

And You'd cut through all my pain and rage

The darkness is not dark to You

And night's as bright as day

Nothing is beyond You

You stand beyond the reach

Of our vain imaginations

Our misguided piety

The heavens stretch to hold You

And deep cries out to deep

Singing that nothing is beyond You

Nothing is beyond You

And time cannot contain You

You fill eternity

Sin can never stain You

And death has lost its sting

And I cannot explain the way You came to love me

Except to say that nothing is beyond You

Nothing is beyond You

Nothing is beyond You

~ “Nothing is Beyond You”

(Rich Mullins, Mitch McVicker, Tom Booth.

Listen to the Amy Grant version.

You’re welcome.)