A Light Meant to Be Shared
By Jessica Brodie
I like to think of myself as sunny-side-up kind of person, an optimist who naturally sees the positive in situations. But lately, the suffering in life and the busy chaos of society have been reminding me we live in a fallen world. While hope glimmers in spite of this, the truth remains that darkness weaves a path with sneaky tendrils of gloom and destruction, capitalizing on our weaknesses and fears. There is indeed a spiritual war in our midst, and we who belong to Christ Jesus must press on in faith, fighting for the light.
Yet sometimes, a glimpse of that light makes itself known in unexpected moments. That’s what happened to me Saturday night at, of all places, a community Christmas parade.
During the pandemic, my husband, Matt, bought an old Jeep YJ and turned it into a labor of love. With help, he restored it into a beautifully running vehicle with a unique twist—it’s a nearly screen-accurate replica of the Jeep from the original Jurassic Park movies. Often we take it to Jeep shows and other festivals, and it’s so much fun to see perfect strangers light up with smiles and gush over something so wholesome and simple. Driving down the road, people will often flag us down and beep their horns in appreciation, and when we stop for gas, people will ask to take photos with our Jeep. It’s not just kids, either. Usually, it’s their parents!
On Saturday, Matt’s Jeep club decorated their Jeeps with colorful lights and lined up to participate as a group in the Holiday Parade of Lights/Christmas in Cayce annual nighttime parade. I tagged along and rode with him, waving to the crowds as we rolled by, the Jurassic Park theme song playing from our speakers as we went.
I knew we’d get a bunch of happy smiles and photos, but I had no idea the impact this would make on my heart on that chilly winter night. There we were, driving slowly through the street, total strangers gathering on the sidewalks for one of the more innocent of community activities possible—a parade. Families camped out in chairs, elderly couples held hands, and teens sat on the backs of cars as they sat together, separate yet so alike, to watch Jeeps, high school marching bands, and a host of area businesses toss candy and shout “Merry Christmas” to one and all.
“Make sure you remember to wave,” Matt reminded me as we drove, and at first it felt a little hokey as I waved at people.
But then something shifted inside me, a genuine community connection. I waved and caught people’s eyes … and they waved back! I called out “Merry Christmas!” and people wished the same to me. I locked eyes with people I didn’t know—men, women, kids—and for a moment, we experienced a soul link, a deep moment of unity where one person of the world recognized the humanity within another person in the world, and we wished each other well.
Black, White, and Brown people of all ages and socioeconomic backgrounds shared that beautiful moment in time with me, and I felt a wave of euphoric joy wash over me. I was surprised to discover faint tears welling up within me. Some of the crowd waved with vigor, while others watched, then tentatively lifted a hand. But as they did, and we made eye contact, my smile seemed to ignite their own, and our waves became a genuine expression of joy and agape love.
For in that moment, I also realized a painful truth… all this time I’d been reminding myself of the fallen world around me I’d also been neglecting to see the grace, hope, and light of the Spirit thrumming powerfully amid it all through these very same people.
Today, I’m thinking of Jesus, and how He might have responded at a community parade. Instead of seeing the fallen world and guarding His heart against the chaos and darkness, I bet He’d have been right there in the thick of the crowd, tossing candy and waving with gusto, shouting joyful greetings with His whole heart. He’d be looking past the busyness and the chilly night air to see the precious souls there within each of us, light noticing light and reflecting it like a powerful prism of sparkling color and shimmer throughout the town.
For a moment Saturday night, I felt that connection, too… felt that Spirit within each of us as I locked eyes and grinned at people I might never see again, each of us caught up in a wave of simple community wholesome fun.
Yes, it’s a tough world, and light and darkness are indeed battling every moment. But those of us on the side of the Light—God’s people, who follow His Son, Jesus, and cling to hope and joy and peace and truth—have an obligation not to turn inward. We cannot hoard our light, keep it to ourselves or our own inner circle. Instead, we must shine it, share it, so all can see and take part… so it ignites, light to light to light, forever without end.
It's what Jesus was telling His disciples in Matthew 5:14-15 when He reminded them, “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house” (NIV).
Shine that light, my friends. It’s meant to be shared.
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THANKS TO MY SPONSORS: MATT BRODIE, KATHLEEN PATELLA, AND BILLY ROBINSON.
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