Northern Lights Lavishness by Allison Whiting
I have been enthralled by images of the Northern Lights recently. In one image, the sky is adorned with hot pink splashes of light, and the snow-white landscape below is streaked with the same vibrant pink, the sky reflecting its gorgeousness upon the land. The stars in the image are pinpricks of brilliant light dusted over the night sky, a smattering of sparkling diamonds, and the snowy fields wink sharply in icy glitter. And I let this sparkle sweep into my heart in a shimmering contrail of loveliness and I keep it for future reflection, just as the mother of my King was prone to store up things in her heart and ponder them, too.
In other scenes, instead of pink, the sky shows off swirls of purple and glowing green. Wispy tendrils of colorful light dance across the dark backdrop, moving here and there, a dancer flitting gracefully across a stage, the colors racing over the snowy fields below. It is a river of light both in the sky above and on the earth below, mirror images of meandering color.
In another photo, the Northern Lights are green fallen beams of light coming straight down to rest suddenly, mysteriously, at a certain point in the sky, hanging suspended there above a cyan sea, the green and blue colors in the image making such a peaceful combination. And once more my Bridegroom has quieted me with His love. In yet another photo, the light is a red spiral in the sky, swirled by His fingertip. And in still another, a bright aqua beam shoots straight up, set behind a snowy mountain in Norway, and an utterance of amazement leaves my lips.
When I marvel at the beauty of the lights, I am beckoned to remember God, to think about His Kingdom that awaits me. I find my mind traveling to what the Bible says in Revelations, "And the one who sat there had the appearance of jasper and ruby. A rainbow that shone like an emerald encircled the throne" (Revelation 4:3). Jesus is resplendent in jewel tones. I wonder at how majestic that green light encircling His throne must look, a thousand times better than I can possibly imagine.
I have been blessed to have seen the Northern Lights once in person in my life, a memory that I will cherish always, and yet I know that no eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him, and beauty and hope rises in me afresh. If I think this earth is beautiful, and I do, then I can't even begin to fathom how beautiful the heaven He has prepared for me will be. The heaven where the glittering sky will sing with the promise of no tears, no sadness, no pain, no death. The heaven where the Son will kiss my uplifted face with His shimmering, white radiance. The promise of this grandeur and beauty makes my eyes brim with tears.
Looking at the Northern Lights casts my problems in a different light, in His light.
The Bible is truly all about light, the light of His love, the light that lightens worries and fears. Jesus said, "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). "God is light and in Him there is no darkness at all" (1 John 1:5). No darkness at all, no darkness at all, no darkness at all. I am determined to let my heart beat with that truth when it is tempted to be hurt by circumstances when it doesn't see why God let something happen, when the devil begins to whisper that God is not thoroughly good. I will turn my heart and mind to the light, the light I see in the dark night sky as I gaze upward sitting in my Jeep in the driveway with a heavy heart deep in the regret and sadness of events that didn't turn out the way I had hoped, and I will look at the light of the stars and of the moon and I will remember the Northern Lights, and I will come back to the truth. I will see the face of Truth itself, I will let Jesus's personal love caress me just as the clouds caress the moon as they gently pass it by, and I will remember that He is thoroughly, completely, fully good and that He is radiant like jasper and ruby.
My heart will settle on the fact that the beauty of nature on this earth pales severely in comparison to the beauty that He created in heaven just for me, and my head will bow in reverence and my soul will soar in love as I reflect on the value He places on me, how much He loves and cherishes me to design such a spectacular place for me, the woman that He came to die for.
When I am tempted to give my heart over to idols, to lesser things, I will implore my heart to remember the beauty of the Northern Lights, remember the sparkles and the glitter, remember what the Bible says heaven looks like, remember that there are gates of pearl waiting for me and a street of gold waiting for my feet to step upon. I will fight to refocus my gaze on what truly matters. I will ask myself if the cheap imitator is worth it in comparison to what is waiting for me. Is this better than my Jesus? Is this better than the dazzling Kingdom He has prepared for me, the Kingdom that contains a house with many rooms, a castle sitting under a sky of gorgeous swirls of light that are infinitely more gorgeous than the swirls of light I see here on earth, is this cheap imitator in front of me better than all that? And the answer will always be no.
God is light and love, and the magic and majesty we see in His creation here on earth is a small, small taste of the beauty that is to come. Let's bring our hearts back to beauty every time they start to go astray and let's make our worship of Him as vibrant and outrageously beautiful as the varied hues that make up the Northern Lights.
Allison Whiting lives in Maine. She loves reveling in the transcendent beauty of His creation and crafting words about it to make His glory known. She is passionate about people discovering that Jesus is the fiercely faithful, devoted Lover of their souls who pursues them now and forevermore, His love outrageously unlimited and unfailing. She is a warrior in Christ's strength and a woman who is allured by Jesus every day, her King offering His protection and walking by her side, His nail-scarred hand holding onto her own.