Sitting next to the graveyard of C.S. Lewis, while the kids tried to find his grave with the lights of mobile telephones, was different. At first, the darkness overwhelmed. The church and graveyard are located at the end of a very small street lined with houses in a small village near Oxford. Finding the church wasn’t the problem. However once we were there we realized that we didn’t have any flashlights, matches, or portable light of any kind. Initially we were not even sure if we were at the right place.
As Carli, Brandon, and Stacie went in search of the grave, Whitney and I stayed with the car so we could stay in the no-parking spot next to the gate. Initially it felt and probably looked like we were peeping kids, snooping on the neighbors on New Year’s Eve. As time progressed it became clear how light it really was. The edge of the road was clearly visible. You could easily distinguish cars with their different colors and dents. Even the sky evolved from a dark black to a very light gray. It was as if we had a light canopy over our heads giving us the way.
The quest for the grave was successful in the darkness with only the lights of the mobiles and the spark of an empty Zippo lighter. With the gravestone came the obligatory pictures and conversation about the man, his books, and least-favorite characters. The role that light played dominated the conversation. It was as if nature had intentionally provided enough light to do the job while laughing at our worries.
Far too often I find the next step on the journey confusing in the darkness that surrounds you and me. In my eagerness to get on with things I find myself blinded to the light that is already showing the way. John writes that “the Life-Light blazed out of the darkness; the darkness couldn't put it out,” (John 1.5) so what makes it so difficult to rely on the Spirit to guide me? Letting go is never easy.
