Darkness.

What a paradox! Darkness intrigues us, but also repels us. Darkness fascinates us and stirs up fear.

We meet darkness as young children with trepidation because our eyes cannot glimpse our parents. At those young ages, what we cannot see does not exist for us so we fear our safe place with safe people has evaporated. As we get a little older, flashlight tag and chasing fireflies on starry summer nights delight us. A bit later still, we risk riding roller coasters in the dark at Disney World and screech as we watch a Halloween movie.

When we open the book of Genesis, we see darkness, an inky blackness, at the outset and learn God separates or makes a clear distinction between darkness and light. Reading further we recognize God’s enemy has many names including “The Prince of Darkness”.

Nothing gives me more of a sense of what such an enemy looks like perhaps than the final scenes of The Fellowship of the Ring in The Lord of the Rings or the opening scenes of the sequel, The Two Towers. The moviemaker presents a dark creature with some semblance of a man-shape made of shadow, fire, and flame that strike terror into the company on the quest to destroy the evil ring of power. Gandalf tells them to get out of there because this foe is too great. Then he turns to face the enemy and stand his ground. We breathe a sigh of relief as he skillfully wars against the creature, but gasp when he believes the enemy is defeated, turns his back to join the others, and discovers his foe has whipped a fiery lash around him pulling him into the abyss.

The movie trilogy of Tolkien’s epic work is a favorite of mine. I confess we own the expanded version and I have watched the series more than a few times. Each time I discover another nugget of truth in the twists and turns of the allegorical tale. Each time I learn more about the battle that not only rages on the screen, but also in the real world we all live in. Each time I realize again that I am small, the enemies of darkness are big, but God is bigger still.

The movie trilogy reminds me of a battle that is largely unseen by the naked eye but leaves evidence of its existence. The trilogy also reminds me that these foes will not be ultimately and finally defeated until our Lord returns. Yet because of the cross, each of us who call upon His name is empowered to join the fight and stand with Him.

One other message from The Lord of the Rings trilogy stands out as truth. The fellowship is tested at many junctures and begins to break apart. However, it is not the many battles and skirmishes with various creatures of darkness that begin to undo the fragile alliance between men, dwarves, and elves. Rather an unseen foe defeats one and then another in the fellowship. The foe, unrecognized by each, comes from a place of darkness inside of them that allows a chink in the armor. That place of darkness hidden within them, recognized by the enemies outside of them, neutralizes and defeats them.

This truth played out on the screen sobers me with a clear message. To defeat the darkness outside, I must first defeat the darkness inside.

 

 

From the time we are in kindergarten (if not before), we get snagged in the quagmire of comparison. It happens earlier than that when parents, grandparents, and neighbors chat about when we take our first step, say our first word, or sleep through the night for the first time. These milestones get written in baby books and shared by new moms over coffee and pastries as subtle comparisons begin.

In the beginning of childhood, we don’t notice that we are measured in areas such as appearance, performance, or competence in any number of areas. But such measurements that are largely subjective start to develop the vague notion that bigger, taller and faster are better. That can creep in as well with objective measurements taken in the pediatrician’s office related to weight, height, and head size that get evaluated on a continuum suggesting what is “average” or “normal”.

By the time we get our first grade card, most of us have a sense of how we fit in the world. It comes from a combination of little things like whether or not we are picked for a team, a performance, or to play a game. We don’t need a rocket scientist to tell us we are “less than” when we are chosen last with any regularity. We know someone considers us to be “not enough”.

All of these start to stir and mix within us and propel us to look for areas where we have a chance to compete, not be last, or left out. We observe what we do and start making self-evaluations that often lead to devaluing parts of us that don’t seem to fit what the “in” group values. So if we play the piano, read well, or do a great job with chores and responsibility, we conclude these things are less valuable in neighborhoods where making a base hit, kicking a soccer goal, running a mile, or swimming the length of a pool are what matter.

Our teen years take a heavy toll as competition heats up for spots on teams; roles on stages, and scores on college entrance exams seem to mean everything. In each case our inner conversation asks, “Do I measure up?” or “am I good enough?’

In adulthood, we discover that long-held habits die hard even when we should know better about this comparison game. The enemy’s relentless skill in creating doubt in who we are, whose we are, who we were created to be, and what the Lord’s purpose for us might be halts us from moving forward and clouds the truth. We measure ourselves with a spurious standard based on various cultural or societal norms, family or peer values, and the voices in our heads that either tell us we are better than we are or worse than we are.

We are not good judges of ourselves. Only the Lord has the truth and wisdom to measure, to gently correct and pour grace over our failures. He exhorts us to get up and move forward. Our unique design for His purposes stay within His focus. His view is different because as Jerry Bridges says in The Discipline of Grace, “Your worst days are never so bad that you are beyond the reach of God’s grace. And your best days are never so good that you are beyond the need of God’s grace.”

When we read His story, the Bible, we get a clear view of what He values and how often He uses someone that no one else would have chosen. Those things within us that others may have dismissed or deemed as less valuable get used as the very things He designed to display His glory.

When I look through the lens of my camera, I hope to catch a glimpse of something that allows me to see what I often miss when looking with my eyes alone. The angle of the shot, the distance from the object, the lighting, and the steadiness of my hand all impact the view I capture.

Over time, I am persuaded that the Lord often reveals something I simply did not notice before the camera lens was involved or at least I did not see it in the same way or as clearly prior to the photo. Perhaps it involves focusing my eye and lens in such a way that I see differently or more, but I am also aware the lens helps me to not take something for granted because I am truly seeking to see!

It becomes easier to miss much in our view as we move into adulthood. We pass by extraordinary things barely noticing them at all. As children, we delight in the smallest of details of a leaf, the shape or color of a stone, the sound of a bird in the tree outside our window, the color of the sky, the butterfly landing on a flower, and the buzzing wings of a bee. Was it because we were shorter, closer to the ground to catch sight of them or was it that we were more wonder-filled by what we did see?

Our day-to day duties and responsibilities seem to keep our eyes focused in other directions if they are focused at all. We are reminded of that when a child bursts into our task-focused day squealing with delight over a bug he or she has discovered or hands us a bouquet of the dandelions that we have been trying to eliminate as weeds from the lawn.

I suppose if we kept focusing on these sorts of things, we might slip behind in our grown-up chores, but perhaps we would be stronger in our child-like faith and more filled with wonder. We might see something we do not want to miss.

In Narnia, C.S. Lewis introduces us to four children who lead us into a strange land where animals talk, trees dance, and Aslan shows them and us more of Christ than we might otherwise see. Of the children, Lucy, the youngest, is the one who most often catches a glimpse of what the others miss. She is the one who sees Aslan and once she does, she keeps an eye out for him everywhere she goes. He captures her heart and she believes without question what he offers.

Those are the eyes I want to have! That is the heart I desire! I don’t want to miss the extraordinary things in my day. Those are the things that allow my heart to stay connected to wonder and keep my focus on the One who has pursued my heart long before I knew Him.

On a recent trip to Yellowstone National Park, I captured a series of shots of Old Faithful as the geyser put on its display that thousands wait to see erupt. I had seen Old Faithful other times and felt good about what the camera had captured, but what brought a smile to my face and a reminder to my heart was when a child looked at one of the shots I had taken and announced, “It looks like an angel!”