Years ago, I heard about an author visiting the United States who needed to make a phone call one evening. He found a phone booth — remember those? — but this one was different from the ones back home. It was getting dark, and he was having trouble reading the numbers in the phone book. He noticed a light fixture in the ceiling but couldn't find a way to turn it on.

A man walking by noticed his trouble and called out, "Sir, if you want to turn the light on, all you have to do is shut the door."

To his amazement, when he closed the door, the booth filled with light.

Phone booths are long gone now. So are phone books, for that matter. But the image has stayed with me. So often we feel as though we are in the dark — groping for guidance, for peace, for some sense of direction. We know there is light somewhere. We're just not always sure how to find the switch.

Throughout his ministry, Jesus modeled something worth noticing. Again and again — not only in moments of crisis, but as a regular rhythm — he withdrew from the crowds to pray. Luke tells us, "He would withdraw to deserted places and pray." (Luke 5:16) I have to believe that is where his strength came from to keep going back out into the noise and the need.

There is something in that small, quiet act of closing a door. Shutting out the distractions, the noise, the constant pull of everything clamoring for our attention — and opening our hearts instead.

That is often when we begin to find the light we've been looking for all along.

Prayer: Loving God, we lay our lives before you again today. We bring our hurt, our disappointment, our confusion, and our burdens, and we ask you to shine your healing and guiding light into our lives. Comfort us where we need comfort, challenge us where we need challenge, and fill us again with your strength, hope, and love. We ask in Jesus' name. Amen.

‍