Maybe it was unfiltered words of anger. Perhaps an act that seemed inconsequential at the time. Or maybe it was a toxic thought that found fertile soil.
Whatever it was, however small or seemingly fleeting, it has festered and grown until now it taints everything else. Seeking forgiveness from the person who has been wronged seems insurmountable.
Soon, the weight of wrongdoing becomes greater than the shadow of shame in asking forgiveness.
Now the asking cannot wait. The wound is deep and needs lancing at any cost.
So you go, hoping for healing, and terrified of rejection. Your steps slow. What if? What if asking is not enough. What if the damage is too grievous?
But you cannot help yourself. You must go.
Your steps and breathing quicken. How far? how long? how bad will the penance be? Still you go.
And you're there . . . there to dare, to ask, to hope.
The door opens, and beyond the door . . . light. It illuminates the very essence of your heart, soul and mind, revealing every dark stain. You start to turn away, longing to run away.
Then suddenly . . . suddenly! Illumination becomes acceptance, affirmation, revelation. Instead of the fires of condemnation, waves of forgiveness wash over you, cleansing every stain.
How can this be? How did something so small become so overwhelming? How could something so overwhelming be forgiven so swiftly?
Forgiveness found only in the light. Forgiving light.
12 Once more Jesus addressed the crowd. He said, I am the Light of the world. He who follows Me will not be walking in the dark, but will have the Light which is Life.