This Little Light of Mine

Jesus said, “You are the light of the world….Let your light shine so others can see it. Then they will see the good things you do. And they will bring glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:14, 16, NIRV).

I used to take my morning walk around our neighborhood. Then, about two years ago, I started driving ten minutes to a nearby waterfront for a more scenic walk.

When the tide is out, I walk along the water, enjoying the sound of lapping waves and the benefit of walking on sand. I often see seals, starfish, herons, geese, and interesting driftwood.

My route includes the fishing pier. On cold, windy winter days, the pier is mostly empty, but in summer, when salmon are running, the pier is lined with people fishing. Catching a fish often becomes a group effort—“Keep the line tight!” “Don’t let it go under the pier!” “I’ll get a net!” There’s a sense of shared achievement when the fish is reeled in.

Most of my walk is within sight of the railroad tracks where long freight trains frequently run. I have tried to count the freight cars, but it’s beyond my attention span. However, I do count the engines. Usually there are two to four; my personal best is seven.

On clear days the view is spectacular. I see ferries and other boats plying their way on the Puget Sound. The snowcapped Olympic Mountains across the water are a majestic backdrop. Sometimes I just have to stop and gawk.

But my brief encounters with people are the best part of my waterfront walk. It’s not a crowded route in the morning, but I regularly see other walkers. Early on I noticed that walkers rarely greeted one another. We usually passed each other silently, even grimly. It did not feel good to me. So, I decided to put a pinhole in that silence by greeting other walkers with a cheery, “Good morning!”

I get varied responses.

Women, more often than men, respond with their own cheery, “Good morning!” and a smile. Grim-faced men tend to be unbrightened by my little bit of offered sunshine.

However, men are more likely to add a “How you doing?” If time allows, I will say, “Not as well as ten years ago, but I’m okay.” I once said that to a woman seated on a bench. I stopped when she replied, “Really? What’s going on?” I told her about my neuropathy, and we had a brief chat. She sent me on my way with, “You’re doing great. Keep up the good work!”

Parents and grandparents pushing strollers are unfailingly responsive. I suspect being out for a walk with a baby engenders a positive attitude.

I have been stunned, more than once, by the power of a smile to transform a face and, perhaps, for a brief moment, a person.

I have decided to see my cheerful “Good morning” as a minimal enactment of Christ’s description of believers as “light of the world.” I’m fully aware that in so many other people and works, through grit, dedication, and sacrifice, the light of Jesus blazes so much more brightly and fruitfully. I also know it is highly improbable that my cheery “Good morning” will, as a consequence, “bring glory to God.”

But even if it is unlikely that my little pinhole of light will be spiritually consequential to others, it is important that I see it as spiritually consequential to me. It matters that I see my “Good morning” not merely as friendliness, but as a work of obedience to Christ and an effort to embody my God-given identity as the light of the world.