A well-known lesson in photography is that the light makes the photo. Once upon a time when I was learning and tenaciously taking photos I would always seek the soft, shimmery veil cast right before the sun slept: the golden hour.
Seeking the light became my mission and so I saw it everywhere: the sun slinking gentle over a wheat field, seeping into a gathering oak trees, smiling between the yellow daisies of autumn. To me, it was as if God was smiling golden over the earth for that short hour of the day. And– thinking back over the wheat fields, the oak trees, and the daises I suddenly notice– all needed cracks for the light to shine through.
Seeing the light cast magic into those cracks of mundane life made me think: we can be that too. What is broken can become beautiful because it allows more light inside. The chasms of heartache and sadness shift into pathways for the sun to sneak through, illuminating the darkness trapped inside. And one day when we’re ready, the holes, the gaps, the interstices we were dealt become places to let light out: to help others through their own shadowy places– to let them know that they’re not alone.
“In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind” (John 1:4).