The Woman, The Light, and The Darkness
There was a woman who loved the Light. But she also loved the darkness. It was a curious thing.
She welcomed the Light each morning and centered her plans around it. She loved its warmth. She loved how it made her feel and how it made others feel. You could say she was a promoter of Light-- a fan, for sure.
But then night would come. As the sun began to set, she would lock her doors, shut her blinds, and change into dark clothes. She was deeply fascinated by the darkness and couldn't help making friends with it. All night, she would fellowship with darkness. She convinced herself that it was a safe relationship to entertain.
Her family didn't seem to mind the dichotomy. They would watch as she loved both sides with equal interest and resolved that as long as she was happy, they would let her be.
But she was not happy.
Not happy at all. In fact, deep inside she could feel a tearing and a wrestling in her soul. The doctor said she was bi-polar. She chalked it up to depression. "Nothing a few pills of medicine can't help," she would tell herself. But, it did not help. And her struggle deepened.
Then her love for the darkness began to affect others around her and she began to see changes in her son. He used to be a such a happy boy. But a shadow seemed to follow him these days. He struggled to break free and be a healthy boy.
Then one day, a man from another country, who loved the Light, was in town. The friends of the Light called the woman and said, "Come tonight. You can't miss it. He is excellent in his field."
But she faced a dilemma.
"If I go at night, I will surely miss my fellowship with the dark," she said to herself.
She looked through the window as a car pulled up in front of her house.
"Come with us!" the friends of the Light yelled. "It will be fun!"
She contemplated for a moment, for she knew she enjoyed the Light, but then lowered her blind as she turned to greet the darkness once again.
The following night, her friends of the Light came by again. "Come with us!" they yelled. "It will surely be fun."
But this time the woman did not even look through her window, for she had convinced herself that the night was dedicated to the darkness, not the Light.
Later that night, the woman fell into a deep sleep and had a dream, maybe a vision. (It was so real to her, it was hard to tell.) And in that dream/vision, she held a photo album in her hand. It was big and heavy -- filled from front to back with pictures from her whole life. As she stood there gazing at the cover, she looked up to see the Father of Light walking into the room.
"It's a big album." He said with a smile. "Shall we take a look together?"
So the woman and the Father sat down and opened the album, only to find that half the pages were loose and began to fall out. As she tried to quickly grab them and hold them in, the binding began to crackle and break.
"What's happening?" she cried out to the Father of Light, as she struggled to keep the entire album from falling to pieces in her hands.
"Your album can not stay completely together because half the pages are not secured to the binding, and the binding itself is weak. You have filled your album with both Light and darkness -- two things that can never mix, like oil and water."
"What must I do to fix my album, Father?"'she asked, as she continued to anxiously grab for the falling pages.
"Love only the Light, dear one. Only the Light. ONLY ME. The darkness pretends to be a friend, but only leaves your album insecure, shaky, and falling apart, as you can very well see. But if you fill your album ONLY with Me and My Light, I will make sure that your album will never unravel. But you must choose. You can not love both the Light and the darkness. And beware. If you choose darkness, it will soon become your cruel master until you will no longer even want the Light at all. So choose today, dear one, whom you will love. Choose the Light. CHOOSE ME!"
And with that, the woman awoke, jumped out of bed, opened her blinds...
and turned her face to the Light, once and for all.
She welcomed the Light each morning and centered her plans around it. She loved its warmth. She loved how it made her feel and how it made others feel. You could say she was a promoter of Light-- a fan, for sure.
But then night would come. As the sun began to set, she would lock her doors, shut her blinds, and change into dark clothes. She was deeply fascinated by the darkness and couldn't help making friends with it. All night, she would fellowship with darkness. She convinced herself that it was a safe relationship to entertain.
Her family didn't seem to mind the dichotomy. They would watch as she loved both sides with equal interest and resolved that as long as she was happy, they would let her be.
But she was not happy.
Not happy at all. In fact, deep inside she could feel a tearing and a wrestling in her soul. The doctor said she was bi-polar. She chalked it up to depression. "Nothing a few pills of medicine can't help," she would tell herself. But, it did not help. And her struggle deepened.
Then her love for the darkness began to affect others around her and she began to see changes in her son. He used to be a such a happy boy. But a shadow seemed to follow him these days. He struggled to break free and be a healthy boy.
Then one day, a man from another country, who loved the Light, was in town. The friends of the Light called the woman and said, "Come tonight. You can't miss it. He is excellent in his field."
But she faced a dilemma.
"If I go at night, I will surely miss my fellowship with the dark," she said to herself.
She looked through the window as a car pulled up in front of her house.
"Come with us!" the friends of the Light yelled. "It will be fun!"
She contemplated for a moment, for she knew she enjoyed the Light, but then lowered her blind as she turned to greet the darkness once again.
The following night, her friends of the Light came by again. "Come with us!" they yelled. "It will surely be fun."
But this time the woman did not even look through her window, for she had convinced herself that the night was dedicated to the darkness, not the Light.
Later that night, the woman fell into a deep sleep and had a dream, maybe a vision. (It was so real to her, it was hard to tell.) And in that dream/vision, she held a photo album in her hand. It was big and heavy -- filled from front to back with pictures from her whole life. As she stood there gazing at the cover, she looked up to see the Father of Light walking into the room.
"It's a big album." He said with a smile. "Shall we take a look together?"
So the woman and the Father sat down and opened the album, only to find that half the pages were loose and began to fall out. As she tried to quickly grab them and hold them in, the binding began to crackle and break.
"What's happening?" she cried out to the Father of Light, as she struggled to keep the entire album from falling to pieces in her hands.
"Your album can not stay completely together because half the pages are not secured to the binding, and the binding itself is weak. You have filled your album with both Light and darkness -- two things that can never mix, like oil and water."
"What must I do to fix my album, Father?"'she asked, as she continued to anxiously grab for the falling pages.
"Love only the Light, dear one. Only the Light. ONLY ME. The darkness pretends to be a friend, but only leaves your album insecure, shaky, and falling apart, as you can very well see. But if you fill your album ONLY with Me and My Light, I will make sure that your album will never unravel. But you must choose. You can not love both the Light and the darkness. And beware. If you choose darkness, it will soon become your cruel master until you will no longer even want the Light at all. So choose today, dear one, whom you will love. Choose the Light. CHOOSE ME!"
And with that, the woman awoke, jumped out of bed, opened her blinds...
and turned her face to the Light, once and for all.
Comments