Rooster light...

As I lay in early morning darkness listening to the rooster crow, I began to count the different ways light has been a part of conversation in the past week.
The Electric Light Parade is in full swing here on the farm. Every night the darkness is punctuated with tiny dots of light. Each firefly dances to its own beat and the little lights swirl in the trees sending messages to all the other fireflies. I do not speak the language of firefly but I am a grateful observer of their beautiful communication.
Our power went out last week. An oak tree fell on the line that serves the farm family and left us temporarily in the dark. Electricity is an ephemeral necessity that goes unnoticed and unappreciated until it is interrupted by nature. The lights that shine in our homes are relatively recent inventions. My mother’s generation remembers the care and feeding of oil lamps as a daily necessity for evening light.
Standing in the aisle at Lowe’s, I ponder the choices in light bulbs. My kitchen lights need replacing so I study the choices. I will feel environmentally irresponsible if I buy an incandescent bulb so I waver between the more expensive LED and the dimmable fluorescent bulbs. I settle for the dimmable fluorescent bulbs as a compromise between my budget and the power grid.
Summer solstice, a light filled day that holds darkness at bay, was observed. We crossed the continental divide between darkness and light and now darkness has begun to nibble at the long summer days. Most of us never notice this annual ritual of light that comes twice a year, the ebb and flow of light. The Old Ones knew the power of light and darkness so this shift was ritualized and recognized in the times when light was not taken for granted.
Many of us find our emotional well being depends upon the light. Summertime brings a lifting of our spirits that is inexplicable. The circumstances of our lives remain the same but the light lifts us up and lightens our load. Light is our visual Prozac and we are able to rejoice again in the abundance that surrounds us.
Sunday morning we sang “This Little Light of Mine” in worship. A gospel song and a children’s song with motions… remember the hand covering the upright pointer finger candle? The gospel song book we use along with our regular Presbyterian hymnal, had verses I had never sung before. A new way of hearing and singing this song about light pricked my ennui and I sang with gusto.
God said “Let there be light”. The first order in creation was the separation of light and darkness…day and night. The Psalmist sang “The Lord is my light and my salvation” and reminded us that God’s word was a lamp for our feet on dark paths. Our soul’s inner light comes from God and we find our way through darkness safely when we remember the Loving Light that is leading us home. The Preacher in Ecclesiastes says “Light is sweet and it is pleasant for the eyes to behold the sun”. He knew how much the sweet summer light could mean to someone who lives with SAD. “I am come that you might have light”, Jesus said,” and have it more abundantly”. Light and life are poured out in equal measure for those who seek God even in the midst of darkness and death.
Rooster light… early morning not quite light yet light… seeing through a glass darkly light… for today, I have more than enough light. Thanks be to God.