This Little Light of Mine....

This little light of mine,

I'm gonna let it shine.

This little light of mine,

I'm gonna let it shine.

This little light of mine,

I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

Hide it under a bushel?

NO! I'm gonna let it shine.

Hide it under a bushel?

NO! I'm gonna let it shine.

Hide it under a bushel?

NO! I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

Chorus

Don't let Satan blow it out.

I'm gonna let it shine.

Don't let Satan blow it out.

I'm gonna let it shine.

Don't let Satan blow it out.

I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

(Repeat chorus)

Shine all over (CITY)

I'm gonna let it shine.

Shine all over (CITY)

I'm gonna let it shine.

Shine all over (CITY)

I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

Chorus

Let it shine 'til Jesus comes.

I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine 'til Jesus comes.

I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine 'til Jesus comes.

I'm gonna let it shine.

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

Chorus

Sometimes, going back and rethinking and rereading the lyrics of children's songs open up a whole new realm of meaning. As a kid, it's the motions and the tune that catch our attention. Is it fun for us to sing? Can we sing it enough to make it annoying for anyone to be around us? Yes? Perfect. That is our new favorite song. However, as we grow older and our thinking allows for more depth and critical analysis of words, thoughts and ideas, the lyrics to a song suddenly bring us to tears as their meanings penetrate our hearts. 

When I was a little girl, I loved songs about sunshine and light. My mom would sing "You Are My Sunshine" to me as I would lay down to go to sleep. Another one of my favorites was always "This Little Light of Mine." There were motions where we would hide our index finger of one hand under a "bushel" of our other hand and then SHOUT, "NO!" as we took the bushel off. It was loud; it was fun; and such an exciting thing to say as a child, "No. Nobody is going to change my mind for me. This is me and what I believe and I'm gonna tell the whole world."  Which, according to my mom, is exactly what I did as a young believer. I couldn't contain myself from telling others about this Jesus I had met, who saved me and loves me and loves them too. What a powerful and enabling song for a young child.

Now, fast forward to my current season. I was recently driving by myself and took the precious time in the car to be with the Father and talk about life and intercede and just be at my most raw with Him. Coming into my last semester of college, future plans and circumstances has been a popular topic between He and I. The last year and a half had been a challenging "growing" season with Him and who I am. I learned lies that I had been walking in about myself or just the pattern I walked in. In the moment of changing my thoughts, I did not always realize what I had believed; I just kept pressing in more to the Father.  As I pressed in, my mentality changed over the season and in the last three months, I have been able to look back and identify what I had been believing or doing and how the Father has grown me from that place. A lot of it had to do with trust, trusting that the woman God made me to be was exactly who He wanted me to be and that He has plans specific for me. I don't have to alter who I am to fit others' plans, but being perfectly me will bring to fruition the plans He has for me. So as I was driving, I talked about things and went in a loop of saying, "This would be cool. I'm gonna wait for you to move here. But I think it would be cool. I'm not gonna care or worry about it though, etc..." And as I thought about why certain things would be cool, I had reasons and questions and excitement for what the Lord is about to do. One of the reasons why I thought some of my ideas would be cool was how they seemed to fit with what I love and desire. As the loop progressed, a wall popped up, and I don't know that it was a wall that was supposed to be there, in that it comes from a place of fear from pain I have experienced in the past that I want to wisely move forward and away from in a way that prevents it from happening again. So the wall popped up to say, "If I have to sacrifice part of who I am for this to work, I don't want any of it. I've gone down that road before and it only harms me in the long run." As I had that thought, which wasn't a bad thought, "This little light of mine" popped into my head, and I laughed. This song that I have not thought of in forever came rushing back to me, and I realized that it was not just an evangelical Gospel song for kids, but also about how much the Father really desires us to be this bold with our identity.

In these last few months, the Father has also been teaching me so much about identity. Beyond just mine, He has been teaching me the importance of and responsibility we as children of Him have to bring others into their identity. A wise and incredible "big brother" in my life, Joel, often says, "You are the best you that will ever be. You represent an aspect of the Father's heart that nobody else ever will be." That truth makes our "little light" of identity crucial to this world. We have to let our identity shine in its fulness because the Father made us to be us and nobody else. At the One Thing conference put on by the International House of Prayer in Kansas City a couple of weeks ago, Stuart Greaves spoke a sermon called, "The Beauty of Jesus as the Servant of All." He spoke a lot about the servanthood mentality and humility - things about which the Lord has also been revealing a lot to me - and Greaves said, "Humility is rooted in knowing who we are, not in the denying of who we are. It's agreeing with who God says we are." So as we grow in our own identities and walk them out more and more, we are able to be more and more humble, more and more of a servant to those around us, because we are so fully rooted in our own identity in Him, and we know that that is the only identity that matters.

Part of the responsibility to our own identity is to call forth the true identity in others - our brothers and sisters who are believing lies and those who are lost and orphaned. James 1:27 (NIV) says, "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." We are called to take care of the orphans in this world who live without the Good Father and do not know who they are because they are seeking their identity from other sources. We have to bring truth and real identity to those around us because we, as humans, are responsible to the identity that we know. 

A while back, I was complaining about having to do something that it felt like I always had to be the one to do. I wanted somebody else to step up to it for once. In a moment, the Father kindly told me that it was a part of my identity and that's why I did it. It completely shifted my perspective on doing that. It was no longer obligatory but part of who I am. As I processed that revelation of who I am, the Father then whispered, "And now that you know that, you are responsible to being that."

Boom. That was an even greater revelation. Now that I know this identity, I am responsible to walking in it. If I had never learned, I would be able to gripe about doing things and could walk under another identity, but one that is false and not joyful. Because, you see, there is joy in walking in the fulness of your identity, as it opens the door to walking and living constantly in the Presence where all the fruits of the Spirit reside. Then the Father spun the revelation again - "Those who believe a false identity to be true are responsible to walking in that identity until somebody calls forth the truth." Girls who are labeled (and that includes the means through which they are treated because their treatment leads to formulating reasons for why they are treated in a given manner) as not good enough, unworthy of love, sluts, manipulative, b****es, etc... are only responsible to that identity. A guy who is labeled as a convict, uncaring, not good enough, unsuccessful, unintelligent, no-good-do-nothing, etc... is similarly responsible only to the identity that other people or sources have given him. If nobody else has shown them or told them that they are more and better than that label, then they will continue to live in a way that manifests truth of the false label.

As the body, therefore, we are called to let our light shine. We are called to be royal priests (1 Peter 2:9) and minister to the world. But we first must be walking in our identity. Not a front. Not what we think the world needs us to be in order to impact it, but in who we know the Father has made us to be. He knit us together perfectly, to be the best us we could be, that nobody else could ever fulfill like we can (Ps. 139). The freedom that comes from shining our own individual lights opens up destinies. It fosters love because we can finally love ourselves as we were created to. How do we love our neighbor as ourselves if we do not know how to love ourselves or even more, who we are loving? So as we grow in our identities and therefore in our ability to love ourselves enough to be ourselves, we can love others. We can love our neighbors, both family and orphans. We can share with them how worthy of love they are and who they are so that they may be empowered to love themselves and walk in who they are. 

It's like the candle light service, or portion of the service, on Christmas Eve. The lights go down in the sanctuary and it's dark. One or two people have lit candles though. They walk over to somebody who has an unlit candle and share their flame with them. The other person's candle is lit. That person then passes their light along to the person who is beside them. And the chain continues. Meanwhile, the first few people who benefited from the original candle make their way towards the back of the sanctuary, lighting somebody's candle in every row so that that row may receive light. By the end of the lighting, everyone's candle is lit, and suddenly, the dark room is not so dark any more. In fact, one could argue that the flames are growing and slowly the room is growing brighter, like the world at the break of dawn, as the Son takes His place. The chorus starts:

"Silent night, holy night

All is calm, ALL is BRIGHT.

Round young virgin, mother and child.

Holy infant, so tender and mild.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Silent night, holy night

Shepherds quake at the SIGHT

Glories stream from heaven afar

Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia!

Christ the Savior is born

Christ the Savior is born.

Silent night, holy night.

Son of God, loves pure LIGHT.

Radiant beams from Thy holy face

With the DAWN of redeeming grace

Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth

Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth."

So family, let your light shine. The world depends on it. The Father desires it, more than you ever could. And Jesus is calling forth a generation of children no longer scared of the dark, but willing to be a light in the midst of it.