We’re fast approaching the winter solstice, and I’m noticing there are fewer and fewer hours of daylight each day. As a result, I am using the lights in the house and the office much more than at other times of the year—in the summer I don’t use them much at all.
Even in the winter there is usually enough sunlight that makes it through my window to light the office for a couple of hours each day, unless there is thick cloud.
I’ve been marvelling a little bit about the degrees of light that we encounter, and how intense the source of light is at each degree. Even a small source of light, such as a candle, can be seen from a relatively long distance, the brighter the source, the farther away it can be seen from. It still amazes me that the cities we’ve built for ourselves can be seen from space.
I was pondering this today, and thinking about how the sun, even though it is 149,598,000 kilometres from the earth, still overpowers the four fluorescent lights that are in my office, without shining directly in my window. That’s amazing.
And then I found myself thinking about the New Jerusalem described in Revelation 21:
“And the city has no need of the sun or of the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God has illumined it, and its lamp is the Lamb.The nations will walk by its light … there will be no night there…” (Revelation 21:23-35 NASB)
The white-hot glory of Jesus is so bright that the sun—the source of all heat here on Earth and the god of so many thousands of people in history—is irrelevant next to Him.
Sometimes, the world feels like a dark and dreary place; but then I remember that the King is coming. My heart is rekindled and, as the century-old hymn says,
..the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.
— The Heavenly Vision, Helen Howarth Lemmel