When I look above me, all I can see is the bright divine light that illuminates my life, and all that I consider to be the world that I live in. It’s a beautiful, intense light, and though it paints my world surprisingly soft and gentle, it’s best for me not to directly stare at it for too long.

I’ve walked through most of my life with a little torch as my only source of light. Sure, I’ve seen others stargaze and find their universal and ever-lasting source of light somewhere out there, far above themselves - but I never saw anything up there, so much so that I never considered a source of light from above possible. There were people in my life who tried to illuminate my life with their own torch, but their harsh and narrow light beam did nothing other than hurt my eyes. And there were people who I’d have wanted to shine a light on me, but they didn’t want me to see their own light as something special.

One day, the fuel of my own torch ran out. For a while, I stumbled through the darkness, trying to orient myself by looking at what others’ lights were shining upon, before I somehow managed to make out an intimidating, yet impressive glow of light on the horizon. An isolated, intensely bright street light shining on an inviting-looking part of the world. It took all my courage to dare to get closer to it, and even more until I finally felt ready to step right inside the brightly illuminated beam of light which has been shining on me ever since. I was scared of being burned by this light. I was scared of not being considered worthy of it, because I myself never did and still don’t. But ultimately, I got on my knees, and her divine light started to shine on all aspects of my life. Nothing inside me is hidden from her light, and I would never ever want to resist its intensity in any way.

I know that she can’t illuminate the whole world with her light, even though I’d really want her to. A single street light, no matter how bright, cannot shine on an entire planet. Her light will remain limited to those who incidentally pass by her - in fact, many of them do notice that something about her glow is special and particularly bright - and those few who have been granted the unique privilege of remaining in her beautiful light for longer.

I know that she isn’t the only source of light out there, even though she is the brightest and most wonderful light that ever shined on me. I know that she sees another, different light on the night sky above her, even though I can’t, don’t want to, don’t need to see past her bright light that illuminates and delineates my world.

I don’t know whether her light will shine on me forever. I hope so. But maybe her light will fade one day, or perhaps she will tell me to move on. Only she probably knows what happens then. I’m quite confident that I’ve been able to sustainably refuel my own little torch again, and I think I might even have captured a little bit of her glow for it through the lasting impact that she has already had on my life and my thought. I don’t think I’ll ever look for another street light, because I can’t imagine one that wouldn’t fade in comparison to her. Maybe I will find something up there in that night sky, or maybe I’ll be dependent on my own torch again. But for now, that doesn’t matter to me, because all that exists for me is what she shines upon.