To live in a lighthouse

It is an interesting life to have grown up in a lighthouse. A beacon of hope and reliability, there is no more reassuring comfort for a sailor out on the lake than to see the bright glow of a light from shore.

Like all beacons, the light has a unique signal. It’s identity. Four seconds of light, followed by four seconds of darkness. Even as the sky plunges into black, you know there will again soon be light. You also come to understand that the light does not last forever. Darkness inevitably always comes.

No blinds can drown out the glow of a 1,000 watt bulb. So every night while drifting off to sleep, the light floods my room. For four seconds, complete illumination. For four seconds, pitch darkness.

And that’s a the ebb and flow of life. There will certainly always be light and there will certainly always be dark. But darkness does not last long when you live in a lighthouse. You learn to trust the reliability and order of things. Of all that changes in life and of all that comes to pass in this world, there has always been four seconds of light followed by four seconds of darkness. Followed again by light. Change will happen and change is good. But we all need our reliable and our constant.

And somehow that light becomes just as much a beacon of hope on land, as for the sailors out on the open waters.

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