The Living Light

Best I can figure, life without God is like this:

You’re a star floating out in the middle of the dark universe—completely consumed by yourself, you feed upon your own chemical reactions in a tumultuous series of selfish transactions and self-absorbed fantasies. Wild and unstable, it is only a matter of time before you run yourself out and dissolve into oblivion. Some of the stars have, in fact, imploded upon themselves and become black holes, sucking in the light of the others. Nonetheless, most of these stars are just trying to bring light to the darkness of the universe in their own little way, all by themselves. Bound by their own gravity, however, most will never know anything beyond their own desperate personal struggles which will likely crush or incinerate any object that dare wander too close.

Life with God is like this:

You’re born as a star. But somewhere along the way, you’re given a chance to start over. Regaining a sense of consciousness, you realize you’re no longer an inanimate object, but have actually become human. “Silly,” you think to yourself, “that I never realized I wasn’t conscious before.” Nonetheless, you now find yourself standing with God and Jesus and in the fullness of the Holy Spirit at the edge of the great expanse of the universe.

You peer out into the darkness which is strewn brilliantly with galaxies and super-novas that shine in resplendent glory. God turns to you and says, “You know, it’s interesting. I created this universe from nothing just by speaking it into existence. And all I wanted was to have someone with whom we could share it.

“And in creating the first man, I had done just that. But seeing the beauty and majesty of the universe, Adam and Eve decided they’d rather BE the stars than just sit back with me and enjoy them. From that day on, every man was born a star.

“We never stopped looking, though. I wanted that relationship with what I had made. I continually wooed the stars—calling to them from what they thought was the darkness. The Spirit, through the fibers of their very being, testified to them about the purpose for which they were originally made. They shone with beauty and majesty—the crown jewels of all that was created—and yet short of that for which they were intended.

“Finally, I sent my Son as one of them. Despite the fact that he did not burn, He shone with a light that would obscure even the largest of them ten times over. Due to the sheer magnitude of His light, many of them realized the futility of what they were doing, and sought out the Son to follow Him, as you did.

“You are now a bearer of that Living Light amongst the stars that burn so hard and hot. No matter what they do to shine, you shine brighter. No matter how furiously they work, they will never be as beautiful as you who bear the Living Light. You are both the art and the onlooker now. Go out into the darkness, and show the stars how to shine.”