The first tendrils of morning light show traces of the sun. The weary mother feeding her child takes comfort in the fact that day is here. The anxiously awaited new morning, full of promise and moments not yet touched has arrived. 

As Christians, we’re called to be like those first traces of light. Bringing hope and warmth and the promise of things yet to come. We’re called to spread the light, be the light, let the world know that the end of Darkness is coming, the Son will be here soon (Matt 5:14-16, Acts 13:47, Ephesians 5:8).

We are a broken people, there’s no denying it. Peek inside any marriage, turn on any news broadcast, look at your own heart. We’re corrupt, self-seeking, sin-laden, hell-bound creatures with a knack for bringing out the worst in each other and blaming everyone but ourselves for the outcome of the world. It’s a wonder that God loves us, and it’s a miracle in every sense of the word that He sent His son to take all of that guilt, shame, and darkness off of our shoulders and onto His own, freeing us from an eternity of damnation (John 3:16). 

But we know this already. Any good Christian who has grown up in Sunday school knows the story of Jesus and what His sacrifice on the cross has done for humanity. We know it, but do we really know it? Do we own this truth, writing the words on our heart and speaking them to the depths of our soul? We are free. You are free. I am free (John 8:36). 

In a day and age where people are shackled to their sin and carry their pride like millstones around their neck, we are called to be image-bearers of the Most High, showing those around us that we are no longer bound to the sin that scratches at our souls. We are no longer obligated to follow the masses, in fact, we’re called to go against the tide. To love boldly. To speak boldly. To forgive boldly. 

The salvation of others is not our job. Thank God we’re not in charge. It’s not up to us who gets into Heaven and who doesn’t. What is up to us is to love with all we have. To show the world that being a Christian means being firm but loving. God sent His Son to save. That’s the message we’ve been assigned. We’re not meant to whisper in the corners and point our fingers at those we disagree with or don’t understand, muttering that surely they aren’t meant to enter the Kingdom. Look at their fruit! No, friends. 

I will be the first to admit I am guilty of taking on the task of doling out worthiness to those I encounter. It’s easy to see someone who doesn’t fit the narrative we have in our head of “saved” and simply give up on them, turning instead to the comfort we find in our safe little bubbles – talking with only those who think, look, talk, agree, believe the same as we do. But what good is light if we hide it away, only shining in the corners we feel deserve to be illuminated? 

Jesus did not come so that we might be comfortable. He did not come so that we might accept Him, and move on with our day as though our whole world has not been turned upside down. No. He came so that we might let His light shine through us in the most uncomfortable of situations (Philippians 1:29, 2 Timothy 3:12, 1 Peter 4:19). 

While it’s easy to let our ingrained beliefs, our comfort zones, and our prejudices rule the way we let our lights shine, that’s doing a disservice to the one who came to die for all. Because He did die for all. While I would like to think sometimes that I have the authority to judge who is actually saved, I do not. Neither do you. And what if your one encounter with someone is how they discover the love of Jesus? How wonderful to one day be in Heaven and have someone you may not even remember walk up and say, “Because of the light you let shine through you, Jesus found me.” 

Don’t let your legacy be one of comfort, of putting your light under a bushel, of not speaking out. The Darkness is great. It’s deep and it makes it hard to breath sometimes. But the Son is coming. The Light is coming. And quickly. We can’t waste any more time. Let your light shine. Let your love be loud. Let that weary mother - and billions like her - know that dawn is nearly here.