Sometimes I Walk in the Light . . .

 



Yesterday, I spent a few hours with a sweet friend of mine. This friend is not highly educated; she is much younger than I am; and by some people she might be considered”disabled.” But I enjoy her company. She’s very creative, emotionally and spiritually sensitive, courageous, and delightfully “real.” She’s also very generous, eager to help in ways that she can, and quick to volunteer.

Because I spend so much time reading, studying, and writing about rather “heavy” topics, I need people like her in my life. I need them to remind me that I’m made of the same stuff. I need them remind me that  I must take time for relaxation and fun–that I need to put my books down, turn off my computer, and sit on my deck, doing nothing.

It helps me, also, to remember what my father told me. “You can get too educated,” he said. He was not against education; he was a life-long learner, always curious, not afraid to ask questions, and not too proud to say “I don’t know the answer”; he was not intimidated by anyone more educated than himself.

What did he mean by the phrase “too highly educated”?  He was referring to the attitude of arrogance that those of us who have several degrees can easily assume. Sharing my struggles and failures, not just my success stories, helps me to keep humble. I hope, also, that this helps you who read my blog posts to identify with me.

Like my father, I am a life-long learner. Like him and like everyone else, I am made of dust. “Sometimes I walk in the light; sometimes I’m afraid in the night.”

I’m not ashamed to admit that I still experience struggles–that I lack perfection; neither can I deny the fact that, by God’s grace and with the help of fellow believers, my faith is much stronger than it was when I wrote the following poem (1984). 


SOMETIMES, I WALK IN THE LIGHT

Sometimes, I walk in the light;
Sometimes, I’m afraid in the night.
Sometimes, my faith is all-right;
Sometimes, I still have poor sight.

Sometimes, I suffer deep pain
Of fear and anger repressed;
Sometimes, through poems I write,
Feelings are owned and expressed.

Sometimes, I suffer the guilt
Of sins I fail to confess.
Sometimes, I know true joy;
With forgiveness, You choose to bless.

Sometimes, I walk in the dark,
Afraid of what light will reveal.
Sometimes, I walk in the light;
Then, Oh Lord, you can heal.

Sometimes, I cling to the law,
And my fears greatly increase.
Sometimes, I trust in your grace;
Then, my spirit knows peace.

Sometimes I suffer alone,
Fearing shame for what I feel.
Sometimes, I share with a friend;
Then, more truth you reveal.

Sometimes, I hide my tenderness,
And no one knows I care.
Sometimes, I cry when others hurt;
Burdens we both share.

Sometimes, I want to make believe—
Pretend the battle’s done;
But Lord, don’t take me home
Until the victory’s won.

Jane Ault 1984 

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