THE LIGHT IS OFTEN AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

THE LIGHT IS OFTEN AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”
(Isaiah 43:2)

Life, in its mysterious and often severe mercy, has a way of unraveling us. It takes us through valleys so deep that the sky seems to have folded in on itself. In those moments, it may feel as though all light has been extinguished, and we are left to wander in the cold shadows of our own brokenness.

Yet it is often here, in the stillness of despair, in the ashes of all we thought we were, that the first quiet flicker of light is born. A light that does not blind, but beckons us to come. It whispers gently to the weary soul: “Rise. There is more at the end of the tunnel.”

But just like in the case of the prodigal son, rising is not easy. The journey toward illumination requires surrender. The kind that strips away false certainties and demands a deeper listening.

The soul must be awakened not by comfort, but by the fire that refines and the darkness that teaches.
To be reduced to ashes is not to be destroyed. It is to be prepared.

As a seed must break before it sprouts, so too must we be broken open for the light of God to seep in, healing the cracks and flooding our inner chambers with truth.

From this broken point comes a profound knowing, not of the mind, but of the spirit, that God’s kingdom is not a far-off promise, but a present reality unfolding within and around us like a pilgrimage of the heart that helps us see things differently, understand better and apply faith in a more useful way, embrace joy even in sorrow, and to allow grace to overflow on our weaknesses.

At the end of the tunnel, the light transforms us, and in becoming light, we help illuminate the path for others still making their way through the darkness.
Win@today