The Light Shines in the Darkness
Liz Bewley · 21 December 2022
Thirteen years ago, Stew and I were decorating the Christmas tree in our little London flat talking about the new Bewley family traditions we were going to build into our life because I was pregnant with our son, Nate.
For my family, Christmas was so much about being with each other, having fun and most importantly eating together! Whether it was my mum’s red cabbage (which I never ate!) or my dad making the brandy butter with so much brandy in it that it blew your head off with every taste, every detail was important.
It was in the middle of our conversation that I took a phone call from my dad with the news that he had just heard from the doctor and had been diagnosed with cancer. As I got off the phone and looked at the tree, I found myself thinking: ‘What’s the point? What good does a decorated tree do when you have just had information like that? Who cares about brandy butter in the face of cancer?’
That year I found myself having to unwrap the traditions and rediscover the reason behind it all over again. I needed an anchor and I reached for my Bible. One of the verses that spoke to me was John 1:5:
‘The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’
The darkness had moved in with just one phone call. This verse spoke into that moment and told me that the God who threw the stars into space and put the colour in the sunrise is not a distant God. He came into the darkness so that I wouldn’t have to face a phone call like that alone. That same Jesus invited me to follow him so I could know life in all its fullness. He chose the cross, died and rose again to conquer death. I didn’t just have comfort in the knowledge that he was with me in the middle of darkness, I knew I was walking with the one who had conquered it.
This is an unshakeable hope that doesn’t depend on a news headline or phone call to be a reality. That year, I made a decision to use every set of Christmas lights and every decorated tree to remind me of the light that shines in the darkness. I decided to use these traditions to cause my mind to remember that, at the heart of it all, I carry a story of hope no matter how tough things get. Little did I know, but this was the start of a journey to discover what it looks like to lead with hope.
A few years later, I was driving around in December with my four-year-old daughter, Jessie. She pointed out a set of Christmas lights and said, ‘Look, mummy! The lights make the darkness more beautiful.’
Leading with hope isn’t about a positive attitude or holding your breath. It’s about knowing deep in your heart and mind that no matter how dark the darkness seems to be, the light of Jesus shines brighter. It’s the opposite to holding your breath – it’s taking a deep breath in, looking at darkness square in the face and knowing who wins.
At a time of great anxiety and uncertainty, there is an invitation. An invitation to linger a little longer as you look at the lights that light up your living room from the tree. An invitation to take that deep breath in and remember:
‘The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’