2 The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.
On those living in a pitch-dark land, light has dawned.
3 You have made the nation great;
you have increased its joy.
They rejoiced before you as with joy at the harvest,
as those who divide plunder rejoice.
4 As on the day of Midian, you’ve shattered the yoke that burdened them,
the staff on their shoulders,
and the rod of their oppressor.
5 Because every boot of the thundering warriors,
and every garment rolled in blood
will be burned, fuel for the fire.
6 A child is born to us, a son is given to us,
and authority will be on his shoulders.
He will be named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.
7 There will be vast authority and endless peace
for David’s throne and for his kingdom,
establishing and sustaining it
with justice and righteousness
now and forever.
Reflection
I am 23 and some days feel like living inside a loading screen. De-realization hits and concentration slips away. My body goes on autopilot while my thoughts play whack-a-mole. I try to bury ideas I know I do not actually believe, but they pop up anyway. I smile and say polite things because it feels easier to play the part. Being on auto polite sounds charming until it feels like nothing is real. I start narrating my life like a game. Getting ready feels like designing my SIM. Going out with friends becomes interacting with other players. I watch my own behavior from the outside, like an actor studying a role. A movie sounds fun until it feels like the Truman Show. I scroll my timeline, clock in, repeat the same conversations. Everything feels the same except my body, which feels like it belongs to someone else.
Isaiah says light dawns on people walking in darkness. Not people who fixed themselves. Not people who figured it out. People walking. People moving forward while still disoriented. That feels honest to me. The light does not wait for clarity. It meets us in the fog. Peace in this passage is not fragile or shallow. It is described as something that grows, something with no end. When my mind loops, I assume peace must mean silence or certainty. But maybe peace is presence. Maybe it is being seen in the middle of automation. The promise here is not that life becomes exciting or novel overnight. The promise is that a steady light breaks into sameness and does not flicker out.
When I feel like a character instead of a person, this scripture reminds me that history bends toward peace, not toward my worst mental spirals. The repetition of my days does not cancel purpose. The body that feels foreign is still held. The light does not require me to feel real all the time to be real for me.
I am learning to name what is happening without letting it define everything. Darkness can be acknowledged without being obeyed. A light has already dawned, and I am allowed to rest in that even when my nervous system is loud.
by Alison Clark
For Pondering and Prayer
This week, choose one grounding moment each day. Put your feet on the floor, name five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, and two you can smell. Try to breathe slow for a minute and focus on how your body is feeling. Think of something that happened in the day that you are grateful for.
Prayer: Light that dawns in darkness, please guide me towards joy and presence in life. Please steady my mind and anchor my body. Let peace grow quietly where fear has been loud. Help me walk forward even when clarity is slow. Amen.
