You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your father who is in heaven. Matthew 5:14-16
I opened the car door to put something in the backseat the day after I had taken my granddaughters to dance. I saw three tiny shimmers on the seat and smiled. They were sequins from Lyla‘s recital costume, and they weren’t the first sparkles to detach themselves and remain at my house. I’ve found them in my kitchen, upstairs in my TV room, and one even made it onto my bathroom counter. I think it may have stuck to me when I hugged Lyla goodbye one evening and hitched a ride upstairs!
Finding these sparkles always makes me smile because they remind me of my beloved granddaughter. Her kind heart and sweet smile brighten many of my days.
I had the opportunity to sit in on two of the end-of-year rehearsals as Lyla and her dancemates prepared for their recital. The instructor reminded all the girls to smile during their performance. Of course, my eyes were fixed on Lyla while they went through their routine. She smiled throughout, just as the teacher had requested, but I knew her smile wasn’t forced. It was coming from the joy she carries inside.
Even at her young age, Lyla is a life-giver. She cares about others and is a blessing to those around her in both big and small ways.
I was privileged to serve as Shepherd for Lyla’s American Heritage Girls troop last year. Each week, I tried to prepare a short, meaningful devotional that would hold the girls’ interest and give them something to think about. Attention varied across my audience, but inevitably, when my around-the-room gaze found Lyla, she was looking at me and listening attentively, offering silent affirmation of my efforts.
I used to tell my now-adult daughters to treat others in such a way they’d be glad to see them, not whisper, “Oh no! Here come those Kuipers girls again!” That was long before I heard the concept of being a life-giver or life-taker, but I knew it was in keeping with Jesus’ instructions to be light in this dark world.
I recently visited Paris, nicknamed the City of Light. Though some sources confirm my guess that it earned the title because it was a center for education and ideas during the Age of Enlightenment, others say it came about because King Louis XIV ordered almost 3,000 street lanterns be erected to light Paris brightly at night to prevent criminals from hiding in the shadows and thus stem the crime wave rampant in the city.
Conquering the darkness. Isn’t that what Jesus did? He is the Light of the world (John 8:12). John tells us that the darkness will not overcome the Light, ever (John 1:5.) In fact, when Jesus returns, the night will be no more, and we’ll no longer need the light from lamp or sun. He will be our Light forever (Revelation 22:5).
While we wait for that glorious day, may we walk as children of light, sprinkling life-giving sparkles everywhere like Lyla’s sequins and smiles, pointing others to the hope we have in Jesus. For at one time we were darkness, but now we are light in the Lord (Ephesians 5:8).


The same story played out at the rehab facility, as Mom became an instant favorite with the staff. When the long-awaited day arrived for me to collect her and bring her home, it took the better part of an hour for all the goodbyes to be said. Mom wanted to thank everyone who’d helped her. They in turn didn’t want to miss giving Miz Thelma a farewell hug and wishing her the best.
The committee was in transition late last year when I was asked to join. The remaining members were dedicated to the ministry and each other, but tired from trying to do it all, especially when the assigned tasks didn’t fit their gifts. Fortunately, our pastor asked long-time women’s ministry leader and member of our church, Susan Hunt, to mentor us. With Susan’s guidance, and using the five foundational principles outlined in Women’s Ministry in the Local Church
Joshua read the books to us after lunch. They were all about how we fill or empty each other’s imaginary buckets by being kind or being mean. Furthermore, the books pointed out we’re doing one or the other all the time. The narrative went on to say that by filling up others’ buckets, we’re filling up our own as well since being helpful, obedient and thoughtful makes situations better for everyone involved. Bucket-fillers, buoyed by the results of their good deeds, are much happier than bucket-dumpers, whose actions contribute to continued strife.
Two weeks later I returned to find the slopes bedecked with such a vast array of wildflowers I could barely take it in. I asked my companion if someone had planted the wondrous variety. “No”, he explained. “The soils and conditions here are such that it developed naturally.” From that moment on, I’ve thought of The Pocket as “God’s Garden”, a little bit of heaven on earth, where the Creator’s ingenuity is on magnificent display.
rom the tiniest of flowers to massive tree trunks toppled long ago, the latter now moss-covered works of art. All tucked away, far from the traffic zipping by heedlessly on the interstate, waiting to be discovered, pondered and appreciated.
I stroll the woods almost daily in the early months of the year, gently moving leaves, searching for signs of life. I sense God’s peace and presence as I meander and I pray that my joyful exclamations of delight upon finding the treasures He’s brought through another winter reach his ears as songs of praise and thanksgiving.
Mom says she could always tell when I saw her in the audience at one or another of my elementary school concerts. A smile would spread across my face and I would relax, knowing my biggest fan was there. And so it was with my daughters and now my grandchildren. Indeed, wise directors of lower-school productions allow a few minutes before commencing for their performers to connect with those who’ve come to watch. Exchanging waves and grins makes for a cheerful beginning all around.
It can be challenging when an activity you’re passionate about is outside. Such is the case with gardening. My plants are exposed to the elements, frequently nibbled on or dug up by passing critters and sometimes plucked or stepped on by curious children, including my own grandchildren. Yet as I tend the small plot of ground the Lord has entrusted to me, I strive to make it beautiful, not only as an offering to Him, but as something lovely for others to gaze upon. Admittedly, my neighbors may question the latter statement since the woodland garden is still very much a work in progress and one of my front beds is being overtaken by the incessant march of Bermuda grass and wild violets. Nonetheless, I have a vision of what it might become . . . someday.
As best I can tell, the tree service working in my neighbor’s yard dropped a very large branch and proceeded to drag it some 20’ back to my neighbor’s property to be disposed of. I’m sure it was an accident and the crew didn’t realize the damage they were doing when they retrieved the branch. But I was saddened to see the carnage: a clump of flattened jack-in-the-pulpit, broken ferns, shredded Black Hills cohosh, trampled mayapples, and a recently-planted trillium which is now nowhere to be found.
With a bit of coaching from her mom, my sweet-natured granddaughter proceeded to tell her great-grandmother they were praying for her, hoped she’d feel better and loved her. As my mom, who was recovering from eye surgery, and I watched and re-watched the message through tear-moistened eyes, we were warmed by the affection it embodied. Even at her tender age, Lyla is an encourager, often enthusiastically telling one family member or the other “Good job!” or happily announcing, “I love being with you guys” as she gazes adoringly at us around the dinner table.