Advent 2017: Ten Bruises, Three Warped Toes and the Danger of Closing My Eyes

“Are there not twelve hours in the day? If anyone walks in the day, he does not stumble, because he sees the light of this world. But if anyone walks in the night, he stumbles, because the light is not in him.” — Jesus (from John 11:9-10)

It’s tough to walk in the dark.

In our new house the master bedroom is quite small — a mere 12×10 — and our bed barely fits in the direction that we both desire. I have about 18 inches of space between my edge of the mattress and the wall. In addition to the bed, we have two nightstands, a dresser, a cedar chest and two dressing chairs crammed into the 120 square feet of living space. This arrangement would be great if neither Mrs. Newton or I had to get up in the middle of the night for… well, anything. If we stayed put, all would be well.

But nature calls and midnight snacks are not to be ignored, meaning a dangerous trek through the jungles of tiny room living is in order. If I turn on my bedside lamp it will wake the wife up, so I’m forced to shuffle between the wall and the bed, tiptoe between the bed and my dresser, then softly pitter-patter across a rug, hoping to end up somewhere near the door.

I have ten bruises and three warped toes. Mix in the fact that I live with a balance disorder and… it ain’t easy!

Speaking of which, my migraine-associated-disequilibrium with mal-de-debarquement syndrome symptoms (a.k.a. balance disorder) has me in balance rehab right now at a local clinic. I’ve been through this type of physical therapy once before and it helped me a good bit with my internal level. This time, though, I’m really struggling with one particular area of my vestibular system. Every time the therapist has me close my eyes, I lose my balance. My brain just cannot seem to keep me upright in the dark! One leg, two legs, on a balance ball, walking heel-to-toe… it doesn’t matter. With my eyes open I’m fairly stable. But when I close them my brain seems to panic and I wobble.

For some, like me, it’s nearly impossible to walk in the dark. The light is my best friend.

This week’s Advent theme is “light,” and our family is observing how Jesus is the Light of  the World who destroys the darkness and enlightens our hearts. “Those who walk in the darkness have seen a great light,” Isaiah says. Jesus came so that those who walked in darkness of sin and despair could have the hope of salvation and joy. He came so that those who bump into evil with their shins and stub their toes on shame would find grace and healing through Him. A spiritual light would shine in the spiritual darkness, rendering the night-of-the-heart powerless. Now there is hope! There is peace! There is joy! There is salvation!

Because of Jesus darkness is now a choice and not a necessity. Because the Light of the World has come, you and I can choose to walk in His light and leave behind the stumbling of darkness. We can do good works. We can love our brother or sister. We can forgive our mother or father. We can love our neighbor as ourselves. We can walk with the Spirit and live out the life of Christ in this world.

Yes, there is darkness in this world. Great and horrible evil. We see it every day on the news and we cry great tears of sadness. But we have not been abandoned by God to be subject to that evil. We are not without an alternative! We are not without the ability to shine light into that darkness so that people will see our Lord and turn away from their wickedness. We are not without the ability to do something about it — to do justly. After all, darkness is a choice and not a necessity for all of mankind. There is an option — a great light — for the fallen world and that Light is Jesus Christ Himself.

Here’s something special about the Advent season. We not only look back at what Christ has done already, we also look forward to what He will do ultimately when He returns to earth. One day He will return to completely vanquish evil and establish His holy Kingdom in all its fullness. We await that day, a day that John wrote would be one in which, “Night will no longer exist, and people will not need lamplight or sunlight, because the Lord God will give them light (Rev. 22:5).” That’s quite a relief to my beat-up legs!

Are you longing for that day, too — that day when sin and wickedness and pride and evil and… everything bad… is finally gone? What do you think that day will be like? It’s hard to fathom, isn’t it?