The Light Between Us

When I was four my mother left my father and subsequently her children. My dad, consumed by grief, by all accounts forgot he had children. At the time I was the youngest of five. My brother who was eight stood in that caregiver gap for me. He bathed me, fed me, and got me ready for school. He cared for me. Even now at 33 I can look back and see how much he did. In a world without our parents, where the ache for both of us was so incredibly devastating. There was an eight-year-old being mother and father to a four-year-old. My brother was the light in the dark for me. He gave of himself. He loved. I can’t imagine what it cost him, but he chose to pay it. In all that time I can see God’s hand over us, and I see God’s heart in my brother. My parents worked it out and God called them back together. But for the better part of a year, it was him. I’m forever thankful and grateful for his choice.

When I was first asked to write this blog I initially wanted to talk about the many times (and there have been many) that God has moved mountains. However, I kept going back to His people.

Jesus says “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” Matthew 5:14-16 ESV

God is the light in the darkness but sometimes we forget that He calls us to carry that light into the world. What a big responsibility that is. In all my dark times, in all the hurting and the hard, I can look back and see where God used people: a meal, a kind or encouraging word, the space to vent, prayer, a hug, time spent together. Each one like a balm to a wound. Like a cold breeze on a hot day. I will always be thankful to those who used their light for my darkness. How we show His love matters. It stays with people. In a world that can feel heavy with grief, division, and fear, God chooses to shine through us—His people. That means our kindness, our forgiveness, our patience, and our faith all become tiny reflections of His great light. But it also raises an honest question: Are we being that light? Are we showing up in the dark places—with gentleness, with grace? 

This week, I’m asking myself those questions. Maybe we all can. Whether it’s in a conversation, a helping hand, or a quiet prayer—we each carry light that someone else might be desperate to see. Don’t underestimate what your presence, your kindness, or your love might mean to someone else walking through the darkness.

We want to thank Lauran Lancaster for sharing this post.