Let Your Light Shine

I like to read. Especially at night, in bed. It drives my husband crazy because when his head hits the pillow he is out (until the light I am using to read wakes him up!). I have become addicted to Max Lucado books. I love the way he relates real, everyday situations to the Bible. I love the way he tells it like it is and sometimes uses “in your face” tactics to get the point across. I have my own little Max Lucado library.
One of his books I have read recently is entitled “God Came Near”. A story from that book is so fitting for my church life right now that I thought I would share most of it.

The story starts with a storm and a loss of electricity. With the lights out the author goes to the storage closet to retrieve the ever reliable candles. After lighting several of them and turning to carry them out into the house to do their “work” one of the candles starts TALKING.

‘“Don’t take me out of here!”
“What?”
“I said don’t take me out of this room.”
“What do you mean? I have to take you out. You’re a candle. Your job is to give light. It’s dark out there. People are stubbing their toes and walking into walls. You have to come out and light up the place!”
“But you can’t take me out. I’m not ready,” the candle explained with pleading eyes. “I need more preparation.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “More preparation?”
“Yeah, I’ve decided I need to research this job of light-giving so I won’t go out and make a bunch of mistakes. You’d be surprised how distorted the glow of an untrained candle can be. So, I’m doing some studying. I just finished a book on wind resistance. I’m in the middle of a great series of tapes on wick build-up and conservation—and I’m reading the new bestseller on flame display. Have you heard of it?”

So, as the author begins conversing with a candle, of all things, he gets a little impatient. He tells the candle he will just leave him there and take a different one. Now they ALL start talking. Each one has an excuse for why they can’t leave the storage closet.

“You may think we have to go, but I’m busy.”
“Busy?”
“Yes, I’m meditating on the importance of light. It’s really enlightening.”
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“I’m waiting to get my life together. I’m not stable enough. I lose my temper easily. I guess you could say that I’m a hot-head.”
-------
“I’d like to help, but lighting the darkness is not my gift.”
All this was sounding too familiar. “Not your gift? What do you mean?”
“Well, I’m a singer. I sing to the other candles to encourage them to burn more brightly.”

Now the author gets upset. The candles are giving every excuse in the book not to be brought out of the storage closet. The candles are all singing “This Little Light of Mine” while refusing to listen to reason and refusing to do what they were made for. The story ends with the author, still in the dark, explaining to his wife why he hasn’t retrieved the candles.

“Where are the candles?” She asked.
“They don’t. . . they won’t work. Where did you buy those candles anyway?”
“Oh, they’re church candles. Remember the church that closed down across town? I bought them there.”