You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden… let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.
Matthew 5:14–16 (NIV)
When I was a little girl, I remember singing in school, “This Little Light of Mine, I’m gonna let it shine” with full confidence and a big smile. I didn’t just sing it—I believed it. I wanted to be someone who brought joy into every room, who lit up the darkness with kindness, laughter, and love. I didn’t know at the time that the song was a Christian song, but it planted something deep in my heart: a desire to live a life that radiated light—not only because I needed it, but because I knew others did, too.
Along the way, life got harder. I walked through valleys I never expected. I experienced heartache and trauma that dimmed that once-bold light. I began questioning the world around me—and the light within me. Was I living the way I was supposed to? Was the darkness my own doing? Was I leaving the legacy I wanted?
In 2018, I got baptized (yes—I became a believer in my thirties. It’s never too late). That’s when I began to understand that the light God gives us isn’t dependent on our circumstances. It isn’t taken away by hardship or hidden by heartache. It may feel faint, but it never fully goes out—not when it’s God’s light.
The enemy would love for us to believe our light is broken, damaged, too weak to matter. But God tells a different story. In Genesis 1, the very first words spoken over creation were: “Let there be light.” And there was light—not because the world earned it, but because God spoke it into existence. That same God still speaks light into us today.
Jesus says in Matthew 5:14–16: “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden… let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” He doesn’t say we might be the light—He says we are.
The beautiful thing is, even a small light can push back a lot of darkness. Even if all you can manage today is a smile, a kind word, or a whispered prayer—that’s light. And it matters more than you know.
I still sing that childhood song. But it means something deeper. It’s no longer just a joyful anthem—it’s a declaration of hope. A promise to myself and to God that no matter what comes, I’m going to let his light shine in me. Because someone else might be sitting in the dark, wondering if their light is gone.
And maybe—just maybe—your light will help them find theirs again.
Reflect: Today, look for a way to be a light to others.