Who Are You Holding In the Light?

There are a few things I miss from my youth. My former metabolism is one. For years I lived on sugar and caffeine, never gaining a pound, until that sucker began betraying me at age thirty. I should probably just be grateful for my three-decade run on a high fructose corn syrup diet.

My youthful memory is another. Back in the time of landlines, there was no speed dialing my bestie or mom. Every important phone number was stored in that neuro-magnificent mass that was my brain in my teens and twenties. I still remember the numbers for two of my closest elementary school friends (Heather and Katy), as well as my family’s landline from forty years ago. Today?  I can’t remember why I walked into a room, what I was about to say, or where I put my phone (which is typically in my hand while I’m searching for it).

But what I miss most is 20/20 vision. I can’t read the nutrition information on my groceries anymore without snapping a photo and enlarging it – and I don’t think the print has gotten smaller. Thank goodness my laptop and phone have screen-brightening features. For everything else in my life, my only recourse is holding it up to the light.

There is power in holding things in the light. Whether it’s discerning between authentic and fake currency, or, as Dave Wilcox sings, holding a tough decision “up to the light,” it sharpens our focus and gives greater meaning and clarity. And it’s a habit we should apply to loving others well.

The Quakers have a saying, “I am holding you in the light.” It encompasses being an intercessor as well as the hands and feet of Jesus to that person. Phillip Gulley wrote, “It is a promise to work for the betterment and well-being of another. We shouldn’t say it unless we are prepared to do it. If we say to them, ‘I will hold you in the Light,’ we need to be prepared to lift them up to the window and give them soup and a coat.” What a beautiful picture of how the body of Christ is supposed to function. The sacrifice of servanthood. Love with hands and feet that seeks another’s highest good with little thought of our own.

Years ago, we spent seven weeks at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital for our son’s airway surgery and recovery. A few days into our stay, we learned we needed to travel to Rwanda to finalize the adoption of our two youngest children. During this overwhelming season, our precious church family in Santa Fe was holding us in the light.

Several members provided bedding and clothing for our new son and daughter. The Prayer Team chair painted their bedroom walls and our pastor hung their curtains. Others organized their closet or helped out financially. Neighbors showed up at the airport (over an hour away!) near midnight to take photos of the kids meeting their brother and grandparents for the first time. And everyone prayed. They did the heavy lifting when we were unable to move. They held us in the light.

There are numerous examples of similar selfless habits in scripture. Ruth could have stayed in her own land with her own people, but she chose to leave comfort behind to hold her mother-in-law, Naomi, in the light. And God, in turn, chose Ruth to be a great-great-grandmother of the Light of the World.

Royalty was Jonathan’s birthright, but he repeatedly protected David from his father, King Saul. His love for David was greater than his love of power or other earthly loyalties. He held the one who would be king in his place, in the light. And one day a great light would guide wise men to Bethlehem, the City of David, where a descendant of David would birth the King of Kings.

There are many other examples: Aaron and Hur laid aside their comfort and lifted Moses’ arms so Joshua could triumph over the Amalekites. The widow of Zarephath used her last food to prepare a meal for the prophet Elijah. Esther risked her life to save the Jewish people when she approached King Ahasuerus. Ananias rejected fear and ministered to the Christian-killer Saul, calling him “brother” as the scales fell off Paul’s eyes and his light-bringing ministry began.

And the God of the Universe left His throne to meet with an adulterous woman at a well in a town most Jews reviled. As David said in Psalm 18:5, God stooped down to make us great. (NASB) He whose light will replace the very sun for all of eternity made Himself nothing to hold us in the light.

I want this counter cultural practice to become second nature in my life. I want to hold others in the light no matter what costs I inherit or rights I forsake. I want to be a stepping stone on the pathway to another’s success. Galatians 6:2 reminds me that in bearing the burdens of others, I fulfill the law of Christ. And if I miss this, I miss it all.

Who are you holding in the light today? Who can you thank for holding you in the light in the past?