Tuesday, February 21, 2012

The Fiber Optic Light (Week 38 of Fireflies at Dusk: A 52-Week Project)

Sometimes as a child I'd get up extra early on weekend mornings while the sun was just barely starting to come up.  In that time, I'd sit in the glow of my Lite Brite or, even better, by the glow of the very 80s rotating fiber optic light in the living room.  Being the introvert I am, I've always very much needed a quiet space of solitude to sort out my thoughts.  I would wrap myself in a warm blanket and contentedly watch the lights change color as if there was not a whole world out there with all of its constant rushing and noise.  I realize now what I did not consciously realize then - when I would intentionally seek out a peaceful quiet space and feel an enormous comfort, I was sensing the presence of God.  Those fiber optics were like stained glass windows to me - light coming through color, streaming into my eyes, lifting my heart up toward something better.

I recently found a fiber optic light online and had it shipped to my house - this week, my little one and I have watched the light together as it glowed and changed colors.  Seeing the colors as they reflect on her smiling little face is the best.  If you had a place you took solace in as a child - a sacred little space - where you  felt completely peaceful, where you could shut out the world with all of its demands and expectations, is there anything to keep you from creating that and having that now?

If there is one thing that I believe Gen X should know, it is this: God reached out to us where we were and extended His light to us.  If there is one thing He has done throughout the centuries, it has been to reach people within their generation, within their culture, within their context.   My context was an early weekend morning in the glow of fiber optic light, while the day was new at sunrise, while all of life was still ahead of me.

I need it as much now as I needed it then -  the glow, the warmth, the peace, the light.

(c) 2012 photography and writing by Chloe Koffas - all rights reserved