Letting in God's light

 

At the ACW writing for children group last month, we had the prompt of ‘Letting God’s light in.’ I don’t know about you, but I’m not always good with prompts. Sometimes they don’t spark anything other than frustration. But this one worked for me.

Stained glass was the first thing that sprung to mind. A shaft of light cutting through the gloomy interior of a medieval church, lighting the darkness literally and metaphorically.

But that’s not really relevant to me. I’m not a glass artist and I don’t worship in an old church with stained glass windows or write the sort of fiction where people attend such churches.

What I do is write for teenagers. For the confusing world of hormones and burgeoning identities; of pressure to fit in and find your crowd while accepting every pronoun and life choice. Of needing to revise for constant tests and make decisions about a future you can’t possibly know. Of the inescapable demands of social media and online trolling. Of constant advice about mental health but not the systematic change that would protect it. Of fearing that you’ll always be in debt, will never recover from heartache and that one wrong choice could ruin your life.

It’s a world of extremes; a confusion of colours interspersed with patches of deep darkness. No one is saying that school days are the best days of your life. Not any more.

But God’s light can pour into this world if we let it.

The light of God, who says to the confused 15 year old,  

‘You may not know who you are, but I do. You are my child.’

The light of God, who says to the 16 year old who has no idea what to do after school, 

‘Don’t worry. I have plans for you and they’re good.’

The light of God, who says to the 14 year too scared to turn on her phone, 

‘You may feel you can’t escape the bullies, but nor can you escape from my love.’

The light of God, who says to the 13 year old who followed his friends into trouble,  

‘There’s always hope and a second chance. Trust me.’

The light of God, who says to the lonely, the excluded, the dyslexics and the anxious, to every teen who struggles every day, 

‘Trust me. The best is yet to come.’

How do we allow that light of God into the teenage world?

Through our words and our stories; our conversations and our support. Remembering that teenagers are much more open than most adults we know. Teenager years are a time to explore.

Please pray for those who work with teenagers, for opportunities to let God’s light shine, crystal clear and unambiguous. Bringing clarity, hope and purpose into the contradictory world of today’s teenagers.