Little Light, Reflecting the Son

You, my precious new daughter, have a story to tell, just as Micah, Gracey, mommy and I do. Each day of the lives that we live hold another chapter, another adventure in the story that we are living out on the stage of life. And believe me, people have gathered in your auditorium. I, for one, am there, sitting on the edge of my front row seat, just chomping at the bit to see where your story takes you. But I'm certainly not alone. Your mom is right there with me, as are Micah and Gracey squirming in their chairs with excitement as the opening curtain is raised.

You enter the stage with elegance, a little late according to our interpretation of the script, but we trust right on time when following the Master Screenplay, written and directed by the Great Playwright who owns this theater. And your entrance, honey, it was beautiful. The way you gracefully advanced toward the center of the stage, your mother and I were moved to stand and applaud. And while we couldn't help but fix our eyes on you the entire time, our applause and our praise was lifted to the One who had orchestrated and choreographed the miracle of your arrival onto the stage of life.

Take a moment. Look out from the stage. What do you see? Darkness, I know. I see it from the stage of my life as well. But look up, look to the heavens, what do you see there? Light. Blinding light that wrenches you retina with such intensity that you can't hold its gaze, no matter how much you want to. That is where He is. The Playwright. The Director. The Genius behind the role you've been asked to play. He's watching just as your mom and I are watching and although you can't see his face like you can see ours in the front row, you should know that he is smiling at you just as uncontrollably as your mom and I. The One who already knows your strengths and your weaknesses for the role you've been chosen to play in this story, the One who has written scenes for you portraying both mountain-top joys and sea-bottom anguish, the One who knows the end of your story from the beginning…He is smiling at you! Trust me, He is, and one day, you will see that I am right. For at the end of the story, He will join you on stage to take His well-deserved bow. He'll take your hand in His and you'll see…you'll see an unmistakable smile so broad  it circumnavigates His head in an unbroken and unending line of affection…for you. You'll see it at the final bow and I promise, you'll melt in tears of joy.

But we aren't there yet, first you have a story to tell and we are waiting. Your audience is waiting. Grandmas, grandpas, family and friends, we've bought out the whole front section of tickets! Take a look for yourself, you can't miss us. Then, look toward the back of the theater and along the sides, can you see the others in the dim light: your classmates and teachers, coworkers and acquaintances have crowded in filling every seat and more. And then the balcony, or should I say balconies, in this majestic theater, stacked one upon another, too many to count as the upper levels seem to fade into the bright lights from above. Shield your eyes, just for a moment, can you see into those balconies? Each one containing a sea of faces, with features barely distinguishable, row after row after row stretching far beyond where one might have expected a back wall. Hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people packed into this one auditorium, we are waiting to witness your story that's just begun to unfold, with yet many more lines to be spoken, lyrics to be sung, steps to be danced and yes, tears to be cried.

I mentioned the darkness. We are sitting in a beautifully ornate theater created by a master Architect, and yet we can't truly appreciate its beauty when it's shrouded in darkness. Yet the overwhelming presence of the darkness has one definite advantage, it stimulates our eyes to crave the light. And so when you stepped out onto that stage and that spotlight hit you from above, all eyes in the theater involuntarily locked on you! Your hair ignited with light, your long white dress seeming to shine from within, and I was left breathless, quickly blinking away the onset of tears so as to not miss a single step. "This little light of mine," I whispered under my breath, for that is what you are called: Luminitsa, the Romanian name of one of our dear friends and colleagues, means "little light," shining in the darkness for all to see.

But as I marveled at the beauty you shined forth from the stage, I realized something very important. The light that you radiated out into that auditorium wasn't your light at all. It came from the crow's nest high above our heads where the skilled Light Engineer was focusing, aiming and tracking your every move. And you know what I realized? Without that powerful beam of light reflecting off your face and elegant white dress, and splashing pure beauty out onto the audience…without His light, your radiance would be dull, your beauty common, your notice minimal, and the lasting impact of your performance lost.

So in that sense, your role on this stage is like that of a beautiful full moon rising against the dark landscape of this cold February sky. The moon is basically just big dull rock circling the earth, quite minding its own business, it seems. And honestly, I think it would go very much unnoticed were it not for another, much larger, much more powerful entity in our solar system: the sun. The sun shines forth an incredible light, a light so strong that it takes what would be virtually invisible to us down here and illuminates it to create a giant night light in the heavens. And so, despite having no light in and of itself, it has served well for millennia, reflecting the sun to light the paths of weary travelers home.

"Luminitsa YaMpu" I said with a smile, reflecting on the meaning of your full name. YaMpu is a common Gmz name which literally means "Miss White". Now, Gmz people often name their new babies based on circumstances of their birth, or their physical appearance as an infant and so YaMpu is the most appropriate Gmz name any white-skinned female may receive. But in your mother's and my minds, its meaning and significance is far more than skin-deep. Mpu is a shortened form of Mpuu-bij which means White Moon or in our English dialect, Full Moon. Not only is that a testament to the time of month you were born (a very appropriate way for Gmz to name a child), but we also pray that it serves as a constant reminder to you of the role you've been given to play on the stage of life. Just as the full moon reflects the brilliance of the sun, so also, we pray that your life would reflect the brilliance of the Son. It is Him who built this theater, He wrote the script, He choreographed the moves, and He is manning the lights. Why? Because he has a story to proclaim through you. A story of lost sheep found. A story of lost sons forgiven. A story of a love that paid the ultimate price. A story that lights the way for weary travelers to come home.

People need to see the light...they need to see His light. And He chose you to reflect that light out into the eyes, minds and hearts of all those whom He invited into this auditorium tonight. And so, Luminitsa YaMpu Williamson, you have a story to tell and we are poised on the edge of our seats in expectation of it. We're expecting to be moved, expecting to be changed…by your story…by His story. Whatever you do, and wherever you go - Oh little light of mine, reflect the Son!

"Let you light shine before men, so that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in Heaven" Matthew 5:16

"...be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe" Phil 2:15