By Kaitlin Wernet
“Your sun will never set again, and your moon will wane no more; the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your days of sorrow will end.”- ISAIAH 60:20
My dad says his first book will be called Jagged Edges. It’s not something he’s always declared, but just since our party of four became a family of three. Ever since the September day when the first winds of fall ushered in my brother’s last breath, my parents and I have become keenly aware of how relentlessly the months come and go, and how we desperately wish we could get “normal” back. Now, every missed birthday, table setting, holiday tradition, or normal Tuesday is a sharp reminder of both the good thing we used to have and the horror of no longer having it—a jagged edge.
It’s in moments and lifetimes like these that we realize the comfort the world has promised us will no longer suffice. The things that used to bring us joy become sore reminders of the discomfort we cannot escape. But this isn’t a surprise to Jesus—in fact, it’s quite the opposite. He leverages our expectations about life on earth, warning us that we will have trouble in the world (John 16:33). Because of His love for us, jagged edges are guaranteed, but they are not eternal. He has overcome the world.
May our unmet expectations in our pain lead us to the hope and promise of their redemption, when our sun will never set, our moon will no longer wane, Jesus will be our light everlasting, and our sorrow will come to an end (Isaiah 60:20). We will outlive our sorrow with the endurance of hope. Thanks be to God for edges jagged and smooth.
By Caleb Faires
“As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you.”- ISAIAH 66:13
Have you ever seen a mother comfort a dirty child? Children are dirty at least 50 percent of the time anyway, but it’s still a little surprising to see a fresh and clean mother cradling a child with a bloodied nose or mud-caked trousers. When a child needs comfort, a mother doesn’t think of maintaining her distance to keep herself clean but scoops up the child and gets right to the business of comforting.
In the same way, our Father comforts us, not at a distance, but in His arms, getting bloody and muddy. Bring your fears and hurts to the One who comforts you. He does not flinch or retreat from the burdens you bring, from the wounds that undo you. There you will find peace in His loving embrace.
By Rebecca Faires
“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” - JOHN 8:12
Every night I turn off the kitchen light and walk through the living room, feeling the familiar worn wood under my feet on my way to bed. On most nights, it’s smooth sailing, but occasionally I am surprised by a literal giant black monster, with his head, huge and hairy, at the same height as mine. Darkness makes everything more uncertain, dangerous, and scarier than it is in the light—even our faithful old Great Dane.
Spiritual darkness is even more terrifying than the dark of night. We can’t see clearly to judge what is right and what is wrong. Spiritual darkness takes away our ability to see the world as it truly is. We are unable to see what is dangerous and what is safe. Without Jesus’ light, everything is muddled. Some people walk their whole lives in darkness; they are so accustomed to it that they don’t even know they are in it.
In the dark, I can’t tell what’s in my path—I misinterpret the signs and mistake family pets for monsters. There is always something to fear in darkness. But Jesus is the light of the world. He gives us light to see what is wrong and what is right and teaches us not to fear but to walk in His safety.