One of the research studies of my childhood concerned the source of the light inside the refrigerator. I don’t know if other kids did this too, but I cannot tell you how many times I stood at the refrigerator door trying to figure out when the light turned on and when the light turned off.
I didn’t just want to know the “sort of moment” but the precise moment, and I found it in this little button on the side of the door. When the door closed to the point where it reached that button, the light turned off.
So that’s my research, freely given. You’re welcome.
My mother would tell me to close the refrigerator door and keep it closed. She didn’t understand that I was in search of the meaning behind a mystery. She thought I was interfering with the refrigeration process.
The refrigeration process, however, was really not my deal. As far as I was concerned, the condiments and dairy products could fend for themselves. I wanted to know what was happening with that light.
The study of light is a biggie. Light illuminates, shines, shares, gives, teaches. Solves mysteries. When light turns off, you stumble, fall or sense fear. When light turns on, you see. You have hope. When light turns off, something has ended. When light turns on, something has begun.
Darkness has a good side, though. In silent nights, there is deep rest and a quiet trust. Further, you can’t really understand light unless you’ve seen darkness. Or vice versa. Contrast and comparison are important in research.
This is the season, of course, where we are reminded that a light shines in the darkness.
Let’s say you rush around in mid-June or the first of March, you might not be not looking for meaning and mystery. But this season, even in the rush, you see the lights of the seasonal décor and notice there’s a message. There’s a difference. These lights aren’t shining in mid-June or the first of March.
Christmas isn’t just a moment in time, but all those moments in time from childhood to today that are wrapped in memory. You never have one Christmas without thinking about other ones.
Some are good memories, some aren’t. A lot of us think about times when the light turned on, or when the light turned off. Or who has newly arrived. Or who is missing.
Maybe there are concerns for the future. If you’re a solar lamp, you can store up light and use it later. But mostly light is for this moment.
I was thinking this morning that it’s a good idea to beware of unwise gifts… like things you bring in from the past or borrow from tomorrow that miss out on the present.
So, I would say, do not worry about the light you missed yesterday or the light you will need in the days to come. Trust the light you see today and enjoy your magnificent journey.
– Minnie Lamberth
The Magnificent Journey
Vol. 2, Issue #42