Gathering Light

I love this time of year in Alaska. I am fascinated by the expansion of daylight—five minutes here, three there, day after day, warming soils and producing the wonders of spring. At the December solstice (typically ignored in my Christmas merriment), I never consider the effect of a few moments of regularly added sunlight. But in April, birdsong in the air, pussy willows bursting, I can’t ignore it. “Truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun;” (Ecclesiastes 11:7)

Variations in day length have captured my fancy since we first arrived here more than thirty years ago. The wide swings between the depths of winter and the riot of summer enchant me, and keep me curious.

The effects of these wide swings are particularly evident with our bees. As the winter clears, we approach the overwintered bee complex with anticipation. Are they still alive? Experts say that the length, not the cold, of the Alaskan winter is the biggest challenge to these southern-bred bees. They can hold out till February, but keeping them alive through April is very tough. Last year our hives survived. But not this year. They needed more light.

The connection between light and warmth is also obvious in Alaska. Yes, in midwinter we get some brilliantly sunny days, but their impact, though delightful, is minimal. However, as the light increases, so does warmth and growth. Everything enlarges: plants, animal activity, and my good mood and energy. A little bit more light, added every day, produces July exuberance unimaginable in December. Conversely, though my garden is in full strength and flowering in August, the diminishing light closes down the party inexorably. No light, no warmth, no growth.

Though I am intrigued by the seasonal fluctuations of Alaska, I am grateful that our Father in Heaven offers me spiritual light every day, every season. Says Isaiah, “line upon line, here a little and there a little,” (28:10). If I choose to see and incorporate His light, I can be nurtured and experience growth. Little by little, that light guides me, protects me, and expands the joy in my life.

How does God speak to you? As I seek light, I have worked to learn how to discern it. I have felt his message of love as I admired a beautiful sunset, heard his words in my mind as I prayed about my kichildren, and felt comfort in times of distress. I have found that these are not isolated incidents, but a variety of ways He speaks to me. As I record my interactions with God, I recognize His voice more readily, and my ability to hear Him increases. As you make note of the Light in your life, you will see more.

Prayer is a powerful tool in searching for light. The Creator of suns and stars can enlighten us as we sincerely ask for direction. I have learned that I am most successful when I thoughtfully plan a course of action, and then ask for heavenly approval. Often, I have received it: a warm peaceful feeling that my plan is a good one. Sometimes, though, I receive an unsettled feeling about my plan. This, I have learned, is a “no” answer. Not a good idea. Look in another direction. Then there is a third kind of answer: a gentle silence. I am not abandoned, but either course I have considered would work. I get to choose. I may move forward in any of the directions I have considered, and He will provide instruction as needed.

I have learned to appreciate that third answer: I can make a choice and move forward with confidence, knowing that as I continue in prayer and keep listening, He will make it clear what I should do.

Another way that I hear His voice regularly is through studying the scriptures. I have noticed that as I read, strokes of insight may come, related or unrelated to the text: call your father, play with your granddaughter today, or notice how Christ’s actions in a specific situation will answer your prayers. Again, as I record and act upon these ideas, my exposure to heavenly light broadens.

I have learned that the light I receive is precious, even fragile. It must be handled with care, recorded and valued. If I ignore those impressions, treat them casually, or forget them, they may be lost.

However, as I draw out my spiritual day length, I can grow more readily. I can choose better for myself, and be taught truths about myself and the world around me. I can see divine character traits in others and strengthen my own. I am protected from evil. I can become more like Him, and enjoy the presence of the Holy Spirit more often.

This kind of growth, as in my garden, produces real, delicious fruit. As Paul teaches the Galatians in chapter 5 verse 22: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.” An abundant harvest, ready and waiting as I gather His light.

Kristin Fry is a walker, gardener, and singer in our beautiful valley. She is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.