delighted
The trees whip around outside and the room grows darker; I hear the wind and the walls of rain hit the roof, faint gasps and woahs from my boys in the basement, and the dog stirring lazily from his nap. The light lessens and reminds me of days where the weather was not the cause of the darkness, and much deeper shadows existed in my heart. My soul is grateful that He is the One who not only lifts darkness, but guides us through its impossible and seemingly neverending paths. We serve a God of light. We love that, I think. He is the Morning Star, brighter than any other. His radiance will one day hit our faces and our mortal eyes will be understatedly overwhelmed. Men of old have gone blind at the sight of His angels. It is no surprise that our God, who created our home to circle around a source of light and warmth, who creates moons to give light even when there is no sun to be seen, who directs us with a pillar of fire, is One who basks in the light. Even His Word is a lamp, a sour...