the father of light

There’s something about Spokane, Washington in the summer. The breezes carry fresh scents of rain-covered greenery and the sun gives off warmth as steady and powerful as the friends I come here to see. It is busy, but stilled. Passes quickly, but stops time in its place. It is vacation, but with more work done to my soul than nearly anywhere else. It is a deep love of mine because of the memories built, the stories shared and the ridiculous amount of snacks consumed.

I get to live an incredible life. I have hurts, land-mines, deep-rooted insecurities and more weaknesses than I often care to expose, but this life that God trusted me with is a good one. I know God adores the moments that I pause in unanticipated silence and thank him for his good gifts.

James, the brother of Jesus, said in his New Testament letter (epistle) that every good gift and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of light, with whom there is no variation or shadow due.

God sheds light. He illuminates the dark. Brightens the dull and sustains the shine. He shows no variation and is always and forever without shadow. We are the shadow makers. In view of his mercies, we squint and put blinders on, turning our backs on the good and perfect gifts he gives.  I picture myself as a little girl sitting around the Christmas tree. Placed next to me is a beautiful present, trimmed and wrapped with such love and care that it’s practically glowing. I open it up and see it is everything I have ever needed, ever wanted. I look straight into the eyes of the gift giver and say:

“The timing was all wrong when you gave me this, why couldn’t it have come sooner?”

Or

 “I think I’ll just take credit for this one because it was all my doing and my idea anyway.”

 Or

“I actually like the gift you gave her better than my own gift.”

Imagine for a second the face of the gift giver if those were the responses of our hearts. It pains me that those three sentences came too easily. My heart is the ultimate shadow maker.

Let me let you in to some of those shadows:

My husband and I seem to be doing great in our marriage (Well, that’s because we work really hard at it and have had ideas to make our marriage better that we’ve carried out- on our own.)

I absolutely love our house (But I think I’d be much happier if I had that house across the street with the front porch.)

It has been great connecting with friends (Where was this relationship before? I needed it then and it wasn’t there- nothing happens when I need it to.)

Husbands, homes and friends are good and perfect gifts from the Father of light. Discontentment, pride and selfishness cast shadows in my heart that make it impossible to see all things as gifts from the God without variation.  There is no stop in the flow of his giving. The halt is a result of me and only me. I want the face of my gift giver to be beaming with gracious love because his daughter is achingly grateful for the constant stream of goodness he pours out. Contentment is where God’s sufficiency truly holds water, and a grateful heart opens the door to gifts I have never given God credit for. He sheds light on my darkest shadows. May it be said of me that I am thankful without variation.