You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.   1 Peter 2:9

Lighthouse keepers have to be a sturdy breed. It can be wearing and lonely to be stationed where they are. The work is generally heaviest when and where conditions are the worst. A lighthouse might be more comfortable stationed inland. But those in the riskiest locations — out where the wind howls — have the most opportunities to rescue people.

The glow of a lighthouse isn’t meant to illuminate the inside of the building. It’s meant to pierce obscurity when darkness descends and storms arise. The noise a lighthouse makes isn’t for the keeper’s entertainment. It’s for cutting through fog too thick for light to penetrate, for raising an alarm, for guiding the lost.

When I see a lighthouse situated at the far edge of safety, I think of our call to light the world. Like the beacons that guide ships to safe harbor, we are the hope of the Lord made visible. We drive our light into the darkness and our voices through the fog of life. “See! Hear! Come! Christ is where chaos ends.” Let us shine boldly so that those still tossing in the storm may find their way to the safe harbor that Christ offers.

Dear Lord, give us your courage to be a light when darkness seems overwhelming. Amen.