12.17.2025 | Third Wednesday in Advent

Broken Things, Gentle Light

“If you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.”
-Isaiah 58:10
 
This promise from Isaiah feels both distant and necessary today, a reminder that even in the heaviest seasons, light still rises.
 
As I sat with my first cup of coffee this morning, an instrumental version of Blue Christmas drifted through the speakers. It was slow and mournful, exactly how I am feeling on this mid‑week, mid‑December morning. We are inching toward the longest night of the year, and it seems the darkness of the season has seeped into the world around us.
 
I must admit, it is difficult to find joy right now. There is so much sadness and hurt everywhere. I know I am not alone in this. A 2019 Pew Study found that three in five Americans felt their mental health suffered during the holidays. My guess is that number is much higher this year.
 
And yet, even in these heavy days, I have realized something important: joy does not just happen. You have to work for it. You have to look for it. You have to want it enough to take a chance on receiving it. Sometimes it is found in the simplest things, a warm cup of coffee or a walk around the neighborhood with a little Doodle dog. Joy grows where you plant it and where you choose to nourish it.
 
Sometimes the sadness we feel is simply our souls aching for silence. Yesterday we turned off our electronics. We stepped away from the noise and created instead. We cooked. We baked. We even tried our hand at making candles. There is something healing about making light, literally, when the world feels dim. Creating sparks a bit of joy. It mends the brokenness, even if only for a moment.
 
I have come to believe that God uses broken things. The Creator has to use our brokenness, because we are all broken in some way. You have to break an egg to enjoy the bread. The ground must be broken to plant the seed. We are all broken, but somehow, like a jigsaw puzzle, we fit. We fit together. We simply need to remember to love. To find the joy. To find the faith and the hope. But especially, to find the love.
 
Thomas Merton once said, “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy.” Our job is to love even the broken people. Even the broken person staring back at us in the mirror this morning.
 
So go ahead and light a candle. Dispel a bit of the darkness. Spark a bit of joy. Love those broken people.
 
Love breaks through the darkness.
 
Love breaks through.