God simply spoke the world into existence and created something in the midst of the darkness. Let there be light! He turned on the lights.
A bit amusing, I was perusing Christmas lights on-line and hubby was like, I think we need to stage an intervention. You have a problem. Let me just cackle rather hysterically over the fact that in my case it is always mom who seems to have a problem.
I am quite content with my assorted issues, thank you very much. I’m telling you, the house could be on fire and sure enough someone is going to go, You know what the problem here is? Mom’s been putting two whole spoonfuls of sugar in her coffee. You don’t say? How disgraceful. Also, there are flames now forming on your jacket. Just saying……
Back to my lighting issues however. ‘Tis true, I probably have a good hundred solar lights surrounding my house right now and it is not nearly enough. Moar lights! The dark is creeping ever closer as the days grow shorter, so there will be less solar to draw on and I must get all my battery back ups ready. I am a serious prepper, man. Spam and ammo all the way. Well I mean, we may all starve to death in the coming societal collapse, but I am going to be holding my sunflower and pink flamingo lights and looking good in the process, too.
Let there be light.
It occurs to me that the natural and the spiritual realms have pretty much merged in my life and I have drawn a definite light in sand. We are claiming dominion and making a stand. We have written “He is risen” in chalk across our fence and covered the property in solar lights. And by “we” I mean the Lord and I.
I have no idea how this is all going to play out, but we are busy driving the darkness away, a rather shabby effort on some days, but vital, necessary, deliberate, and long over due. Of course the Lord is always perfectly on time, never late and never early, but I mean my getting on board with Him is long over due.
There is no such thing as being a little bit saved. That’s like being a little bit pregnant or kind of dead. No just dipping your toe in the water and dabbling about calling it “a swim.”
I don’t mind the literal darkness, but the spiritual kind has been served one of those cease and desist orders, an eviction notice. This land here is occupied territory.