By and By – By MVC Guest Author, Casey Giffen
In M. L. Stedman’s first novel The Light Between Oceans, protagonists Isabel and Tom live on Janus Rock and maintain a lighthouse off the coast of southwest Australia. The post-World War I locale links the Indian Ocean and the Great Southern Ocean. Tom accounts for every single day, producing “evidence that life goes on.”
For those of us who call Monte Vista Chapel home, we are a lighthouse. We expose the reality that life goes on even during the occasional dark times of the COVID-19 stay-at-home order. Literally, we are an isolated lighthouse, shining occasionally via Zoom or with other forms of technological connection. We are seen, but we are out of touch; we withhold hugs and handshakes. Like the rotating rescue beam, we might experience periods of thoughts and feelings going around and around, without anyone seeing how we feel. It is during times of a lonely lighthouse experience when I encounter a personal Light.
Recently, I revisited a daily Psalms reading practice. For instance, on April 5th, I read Psalms 5, added 30 chapters (the average number of days in a month) and read Psalms 35 and then Psalms 65 and so on. When I had read Psalms 65—by chance right—it was illuminating. The Message translates the ancient Hebrew writings spot on:
1-2 Silence is praise to you,
Zion-dwelling God,
And also obedience.
You hear the prayer in it all.
5-8 All your salvation wonders
are on display in your trophy room.
Earth-Tamer, Ocean-Pourer,
Mountain-Maker, Hill-Dresser,
Muzzler of sea storm and wave crash,
of mobs in noisy riot—
Far and wide they’ll come to a stop,
they’ll stare in awe, in wonder.
Dawn and dusk take turns
calling, “Come and worship.”
10-11Creation was made for this!
Drench the plowed fields,
soak the dirt clods
With rainfall as harrow and rake
bring her to blossom and fruit.
Alone, as though a lighthouse, I witnessed reassurance within scripture. My little light lit up with God’s living light—his word. The previous day, April 4th, I had my lawn aerated. My son teased me and described the dirt plugs as “turds.” When picking up after our dogs, he found it challenging to separate the real turds from the faux pas ones (in-stink-tive-ly I teased him to look for paws ones). Saturday evening was a deluge. Ah, more illumination on me and my little lighthouse. When I read the Psalmist’s remarks of “soak the dirt clods” Sunday morning, I was uber aware of God in the light-silence. Gladly obeying within the reassurance of quiet time with God, I felt grounded in him. Scripture shown brilliantly anew to me…individually, in silent praise with him, “silence is praise.” Just as “creation was made for this!” and all of the Trinity’s “salvation wonders are on display in your trophy room,” I was made to sit and to see by and by, with my Abba, his light of truth. These COVID-19 days. I interact with God during stay-at-home orders; however, my isolation and loneliness becomes togetherness with God. The light of my soul does not spin aimlessly, without being seen. In fact, my lighthouse self is known by him as he relays in good, loving light to me.
You see, a lighthouse endures. While warning others, a lighthouse outlasts the storms, the winds, the gales, the rain, the howl. It trusts its foundation, its source of strength. Quietly, calmly we can choose to sit by and by with our Abba, relishing his salvation for us—being saved from isolation, from uncertainty, from anxiety, from fear, from you name it—and basking in his Light of comfort, companionship, and counsel. Oh, for Tom and Isabel, The Light Between Oceans is a love story at its foundation. Today, as a Tom or an Isabel, may you see the light of Abba’s love story for you…personally for you…during this lighthouse living time.