Break Of Dawn: A Light In Small Places

Last night, I couldn't sleep. Too many things were looming in my head. Though I suppose, that not all were looming, some were lovely and pleasant. Nevertheless, I couldn't sleep. Around 12:15 I stumbled awkwardly, and somewhat nervously, through the darkened house. I got to the hall way and stared into the black before me. I couldn't even see my hand in front of my face. I wasn't afraid. Not in the boogie man sense anyhow. I was afraid that I would stumble over something and wake those sleeping soundly in their beds.
For a moment, I contemplated going back and getting my phone to light my way. I don't know why I didn't. I guess I was just too lazy to stumble all the way back to my room and back to the hallway again. I slowly walked, with wide eyes, and outstretched arms, through the hallway. (I think that I fully believe this: when you are "blind" your other senses become more alert). I was careful not to lift my feet to high, but instead sort of shuffled slowly, hoping to touch anything that might be in my way, and thus move around it. You know that tingly feeling you get when someone is watching you or you are closer to something than you realize? That's how I felt, walking through the hallway. When I realized, what I was close to was the linen cupboards. They became my guide, which transferred over to the wall, to the door, and to the bathroom counter.
It wasn't until after I flicked on the bathroom night light that I found the lesson hidden in this ordinary life event. I thought of how we are supposed to trust in God whether we are blindfolded or walking in broad light. It's more often than not, that when the lights go out, instead of walking in faith, I grovel about, fearful of what I might come across or experience. These times call for me to walk boldly forward, faithful that, like the linen cupboard, God will guide me in the darkness. And like the bathroom night light, though it may be faint perhaps, God will illuminate your road. Showing you where to go. So much of our walk of faith in Christ is blindfolded... We have no idea what His plan is... We only know as much as he reveals to us in His truth. Nevertheless, when I am walking and it suddenly goes dark, I panic.
I was suddenly thankful that I had not gone back for my phone (despite the fact that it was out of laziness). If I had gone back for it, I might have very well missed the lesson hidden in that short walk to the bathroom. I need to walk in faith when the darkness envelopes me. Boldly trusting in Christ the way I should. Abandon the fear and the groveling.
Even though His light might be hidden for a time, it will never fail to illuminate our lives. Much like the breaking of the dawn. The blackness will be pierced and scattered by His light.