“You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house”. (Matthew 5:14,15)

“Do not lower yourself to the level of a childish behavior. Keep yours, that of a grownup, mature Christian woman, one rooted in kindness rather than constant frustration and shouting”, a message the Holy Spirit was whispering to my mind one tense evening. My girls were crying and protesting when I tried to interrupt their play for bedtime. Sadly, I did not heed the message. Instead, my voice rose to higher and higher pitches, mistakenly believing anger would make them comply. I matched their tone, playing my part with the same attitude.

After finishing the bedtime routine, I went downstairs—but I was neither calmer nor relieved. As I tried to read from the Bible, the words that echoed in my mind as if written just for me were: “You are the light… Otilia! This is not about your children now. It’s about you. Not whether discipline is necessary or obedience expected—it’s about your reaction. And tonight, you did not bring light to the situation; you only made it worse.”

Because, before my light shines on playgrounds, bustling supermarkets, behind the wheel, or at community gatherings, it should first be kindled in my own living room. Not only when the kids are at school, or when I’m dressed in my Sunday best, singing my favorite hymns, or attending the women’s Bible study group. I could not defend myself, nor did I want to, because I knew God was right. So, I cried. I wept—bitter tears over failing again in parenting these children, precious gifts Christ has entrusted to me for a time. I cannot undo it, but I return to Him in repentance, asking Him to guide me in doing better next time.

But I cannot depart from the book of Matthew, which seems to draw me closer and closer to the paragraph about the light. I want to learn, to know how to be that light in every circumstance. To go beyond the metaphor and the beautiful symbolism. I really want to be light, Lord! Would it be possible? Even in the most stressful of evenings…

If you walk into any Menards and linger in the lighting aisles, you will find more then 18 types of light bulbs and lamps – some more efficient and more costly than others. But Christ does not give me an option. He doesn’t offer me the freedom to shine a dim light on my bad days and a bright one on my good days. He imperatively tells his disciples in the Sermon on the Mount:” You are the light”!  It is a high calling that carries great responsibility, and as I remained meditating, I realized that being the light, whether a small lampstand or a beacon shining over 2000 meters or an entire city —- begins with me staying in His Light. His Word, His teachings, His presence (John 8:12, Psalm 34:5). Daily. I return to the verse that inspired the main theme of my blog page, paraphrased: “Unless I abide in Him, stay connected, seek His guidance, and wait on Him, I can do nothing of lasting value” (John 15:4).

I learned from Him, then the apostles, and from countless believers throughout the centuries that lights which shine consistently and brightly are never self-centered. They do not glow for their own benefit or only on joyful days but radiate for those around them. They do not calculate risks or defend themselves but willingly endure rejection, isolation, and hardship. These lights are not mere accent lamps meant for decoration or admiration; they are real beacons, burning steadily and guiding lost souls through the darkness. Like Ida Lewis, who rescued countless sailors and soldiers for decades, they show love by waiting patiently for the wayward son, welcoming him joyfully at the city gates, not ashamed of his rags.. They proclaim the Good News while caring for the sick, exploring new lands, and tirelessly fighting injustice, just as David Livingstone did in his mission to end African slavery. These lights remain steadfast in prayer and bold in their requests to the One who can do all things—like Elijah — in a time when fervent prayers grow rare. They seek and act on godly wisdom as Abigail of old once did; they clothe the naked, visit the sick, comfort the lonely, and nurture children with wisdom, gentleness, and strength. This is what He calls us to do if we wish to please Him and bear fruit in every good work. When we abide in Him, we can do no less. His light shines through us. Then we become His reflection. Lord, I ask you continue shining …

“Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me”.  (John 15:4)