Excerpt

In the Beginning

I’m a light girl. No, not low tonnage. I wish.

What I love is illumination—morning sunrays sneaking around the corners of my window shades, encouraging me to rise up; the yellow glow on a firefly’s keister dancing in the distance; or lightning streaking across a night sky like an insistent exclamation point. If it lights up, I like it. With the exception of red bubbles on top of police cars beckoning me to chat. Quite honestly, I just don’t have the time.

I’m sure my fascination with light-bearing objects is why I love the book of Genesis, especially the part where light was birthed.

When God said, “Let there be light,” there was! But take note He didn’t design the light holders—the sun, moon, and stars—until four days later. Have you ever considered that, during creation, light was bounding about willy-nilly until it was corralled into designated positions? That fascinates me. I wonder if it looked like an explosive aurora borealis.

I would have loved a front row seat for that light show. I think.

Then again, in Scripture, people responded by falling on their faces when they encountered a heavenly messenger, witnessed a miracle, or heard God’s voice. They had a compelling reason for responding that way, I’m sure. We humans derive a great deal of our security from what we know, and generally speaking, we’re not sturdy enough for the “other world,” full of its wondrously fierce mysteries.

Remember when Moses climbed to the mountaintop and asked to see God? The Lord’s mercy covered Moses as He passed by because Moses wasn’t prepared for what he would have seen. Oh, he might have been desirous, curious, and even devotion-driven to look on the Lord, but God knew Moses wasn’t ready for such a startling encounter.

Majesty, purity, and holiness, to name a few of God’s qualities, are piercing in their perfect state. Our hearts couldn’t take the jolt.

Remember Jacob? He wrestled with an angel, and because of that encounter, he walked with a limp the rest of his life.

When angels appeared to people, the heavenly beings greeted those mere mortals with the words, “Fear not.” They understood that fear would be our first, knee-knocking response.

So taking into consideration that we wouldn’t have had the moxie to handle witnessing the first stirrings in the universe, let’s stretch our limited minds and try to imagine it. A time when there was no time (what must that be like?), just total darkness (now I’m scared), chaos (this feels familiar), and emptiness (I don’t do bottomless falls).

Actually, reading that description—dark, chaotic, and empty—reminds me of last week, when my son’s visiting Jack Russell discovered our laundry basket full of clean clothes. He chewed the support out of my new underwire. I am of the personal belief that Jack Russells were fashioned from the spare parts of pogo sticks. No, I’m not bitter, just reflecting on how, perhaps, this Jack Russell’s interior must resemble creation before God brought order to it.

Alas, I digress. Back to the invention of light.

Let’s consider for a moment what happens when the universe’s scary dark is abruptly interrupted. At God’s command, light crashes through utter darkness, bursting forth as conqueror.

Does that sound super hero-ish? Well, that’s my interpretation of how it might have happened. And whether light crashed onto the scene, sauntered in, or flowed like a river, we know this for sure: God spoke, and it was so! Which should be a strong reminder for us about the wallop God’s words carry.

Recently I was thinking about the phrase “Let there be light,” and it hit me anew that those are God’s first recorded words. I don’t know if that makes them more important or holier than anything else He said, but that reminder caused me to lean in and listen deeply because I don’t want to miss the impact of His proclamations.

As I further explored “Let there be light,” I was reminded that not only does Scripture’s first book open with light, but the last book also closes with it. The theme throughout the Bible, from beginning to end, cover to cover, from Genesis to Revelation, is Jesus, the Light of the World.

As a matter of fact, we could say that the Bible is bookended in light and a holy fire. For light is the symbol God has chosen to represent truth, and Jesus is the flame of our faith. Of course, divine insight is full of light, and Christ is that light; so anytime we understand something that’s true, something we never had grasped before, Jesus is all over it. Don’t you love that?

I can become downright giddy when a fresh truth settles inside me. I want to shout from the rooftop, “I get it! I get it! I finally get it!”

I’ve found “in the beginning” truth igniting. It sparks hope inside me, whether it’s the beginning of a grand new day, a new project, a new resolution, or a new understanding.

I hope this book will offer you new understandings and thoughts that kindle your desire to seek God in fresh ways. Together we will explore different kinds of illumination that help us to find that path. I’ve been known to lose my way, and I’ve been ever so grateful to those who have come alongside me with their lanterns to shed some light on the direction to take. So if you’re feeling unsure, take my hand, and we’ll step this out together. I believe that just as surely as God had a place assigned for the sun, moon, and stars, He has a place for us as his light holders. A place where we get to shine.

I hope, shiny girlfriends, we can take time for some laughter, too, for it will lighten our load and our countenances. My prayer is that you might find in this book God-inspired bright ideas to slip into your purse to help clarify your next step, and the next, and the one after that . . . even in the dark.

Excerpted from Catching Fireflies © 2009 by Patsy Clairmont. Used with permission. All Rights Reserved. Published in Nashville, Tennessee. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.