The Lamp

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. Matthew 5:16

When I was a girl, my mom had this beautiful little lamp on her dresser in her bedroom. It was made of white glass. It had a bulbous base, a curved top and a clear glass chimney. On the white glass was painted a lovely, red rose with green leaves. The lamp had brass accents including a brass switch that turned and resembled a key. It was a lovely piece that was a magnet to my 5-year-old little-girl brain. It was the epitome of femininity. It was the embodiment of womanhood. I was enraptured by its beauty. And to top it all off, my mother had fitted the lamp with a green-glass light bulb. (Only in the 70s, am I right?)

As I said, my mother kept this lamp atop her dresser along with a little round, glass container my dad put his pocket change and keys in each night, and her wooden jewelry box. Now to paint an accurate picture, I have to tell you their dresser was the up-and-down type, not a side-to-side type. Does that description make sense? (After a hasty Google search, I can tell you what my parents had was a “chest-of-drawers” not a dresser. It was the tall, thin kind, not the long, wide “dresser” [I hope you're with me here. Thanks, Google.]) Being that the dresser, topped with the beautiful glass-lamp, was so tall, and I was so small, it was hard for my little 5-year-old self to see the lamp, let alone turn it on or play with it.

However… One afternoon, while playing with a friend, I decided to show off my mom’s beautiful lamp to my playmate. It’s magnetism was too much for me to resist. We sauntered into my parents bedroom and strolled up to the dresser, umm, chest-of-drawers. She oooo'd and ahh’d at its allure.

I explained to my little companion that not only was it beautiful when it was off, but when it was turned on, it glowed green… She didn’t believe me… I insisted. It had a green bulb and when illuminated, it cast a green glow… Her opinion didn’t falter... “Prove it!” Her unbelief seemed to scream. “Show me how it can turn green.”

How was I to prove the truth when the lamp was untouchable atop the chest-of-drawers? There was no way to reach the key, turning it to cast the glorious green glow. I had to find a way but there was none… or… maybe there was…

So… Slowly, methodically, I created a way. First, I opened up the bottom drawer of the chest-of-drawers as far as it would go. Then, I shimmied open the next drawer, a little less far. And the next and the next, until I had fashioned myself a set of steps… I began to climb. I think I got to about the third “step” in my endeavor when I realized my counterpart was not content to remain on the floor. I was lucky enough to be climbing my way to the glistening glory of the white-glass-rose-lamp and there, with me, in the third drawer, stood my friend.

Now, I’m no expert in physics, but I can tell you that two little 5-year old girls weigh enough to initiate inertia and topple a chest-of-drawers when standing in the third drawer from the bottom. I learned this unfortunate lesson when I found myself and my friend pinned to the ground beneath said chest-of-drawers, my mother's jewelry box, my father’s change container and the white-glass-rose-lamp with it’s green bulb in shambles around us.

Fortunately for us, we were unhurt. Unfortunately for us, the only other person at home that day was my dad and he was outside mowing our lawn. He couldn’t hear our calls for help. It took several minutes before he shut off the mower and heard our cries. He then was quick to come to our rescue, right the chest-of-drawers, assess the damage and dry our tears.

I’ve never forgotten that day. The little lamp fared pretty well in the crash. The clear glass chimney was broken and discarded but the rest remained intact and atop my parents dresser for many years. Eventually the green bulb burned-out and my mom replaced it with a regular one.

When I wonder what the lesson is here, what is the correlation between my experience building a set of stairs out of drawers and intentionally choosing joy, I really don’t have a clear answer. But I guess what I take away is this:

Beauty is meant to be appreciated. Beauty is meant to be seen and enjoyed. We are like that little glass lamp. We have our beautiful outside, but we have our beautiful inside, too. Not everyone knows that we have a green light bulb inside until we turn it on and expose the truth.

People may look at you and not believe it’s true. You have to take the risk, climb the stairs, so-to-speak, to prove the truth... To expose the beauty... To let your light shine. We have to find our light and turn it on before anyone can know what lies within us. And that’s hard. And scary. And maybe dangerous. But to be seen and perceived for whom and what we really are is the most vulnerable gift we can give anyone. Or even give ourselves.

There is beauty all around us. We pass it every day. Beauty in people. It is the beauty of our spirit shining through, touching others, reflecting divinity. It is a glow that many would like to extinguish. But what a dark and terrible world we would live in if everyone’s lights were turned out and our true beauty was never allowed to radiate into the world.

There’s a children’s Sunday School song that says, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” Take a hint from the simplicity of childhood. Let your light shine. Bravely. It is a beautiful beacon that will be a blessing to others.