The lighthouse beckoned me. It's light shone from high above the harbour. People from many miles away could see and appreciate the guiding influence it offered. Many, too many, had grown so accustomed to it's presence that little heed was paid. Nevertheless, it continued to shine it's faithful beacon regardless of other's indifference.
I knew that I must go to it. What others ignored, I craved. Something in that lonely tower spoke to my lonely heart. It's significance in my life became overpowering. Other things fell to the wayside as my focus increasingly centered on reaching the light.
Friends scoffed as I left the things I had loved, to plan for my trek. Hobbies and activities, that previously had brought what amounted to joy to my life, began to seem useless and mundane. It was the light I needed.
On that day, I set out, determined to reach my goal before dark. Carrying my supplies on my back, I hiked. It was a long, rocky road, for the light stood atop a rocky mound on the opposite shore. Travel was through the woods, and many treacherous paths I trode before reaching the bottom of the hill that would lead to that light.
The path became increasingly steep, and my feet continually slipped on the rocks over which I climbed. Over and over, I stopped to check for wounds or to catch my breath. It did not seem possible that my goal should be so hard to attain. Yet I knew I must press on.
Night descended as I climbed. My small flashlight lit but one dim step at a time. I knew when I reached the light that I would be alright. So I continued. My supplies weighed heavily, and my body began to ache under it. Hunger wreaked havoc with me, but my goal forced me on. My intensity increased as I climbed.
With almost a frenzied drive I pulled myself up over the last boulder to see the object of my heart's desire. The lighthouse stood, strong and true. The light swivelled and cast its reflection over the water. It turned, and the land around me was bathed in brilliance. I stood in wonder at the beauty I had searched for for so long.
The tower lights were not the only ones I saw. Surprised, I noticed the door to the cottage at the base was open and a warm comforting glow emanated from within. I walked to it. I was so hungry and tired. Maybe there was food here.
As I stepped forward I was astounded that the light began to increase. It seemed the very air was lit around me. A sound came to my ears---music? The glorious harmonies rose to a crescendo as the light became too brilliant for my eyes. I knelt on the stony ground. I looked down at myself and despaired to see the state I was in. I was covered with filth from head to toe. My clothes were ragged and worn. My shoes were falling apart. Wounds festered all over my body.
How had this happened? How had I not known of my condition? Yet as the light shown so bright I saw myself as I never had before. Weeping began to convulse my frame. The wounds and the weariness that I had before ignored, threatened to overwhelm. Crushed, I lay prostrate.
"Come to me." I heard the words, and I obeyed. Crawling at first, but knowing I must complete my journey. I saw the hand offered, and I reached out. Tentatively, I held onto the scarred hand, and it lifted me up.
I looked up and I knew that I was gazing on the Light my soul had so longed for. My supplies fell away and I wept in His arms.
The life I had known, dimmed, and I welcomed the life now offered. For the longing that had overshadowed me for so long was met here, in this place.
I knew that I had been led here. That this...."was the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world." (Jn. 1:9)