The Word brought life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone. John 1:4

It was a dark and stormy night, the moon obscured by heavy cloud cover as wave after wave of an angry ocean swept over the deck. Sailors were exhausted by the very intensity of the storm, many on their first voyage. The captain, wisened by long experience, knew the danger they faced, but kept his calm for the sake of his crew. He’d sailed here before, knew there was a light close by, but the storm was so fierce that light couldn’t penetrate. They must not allow the ship to drift too close to the rocky shore and yet not be carried out to sea either. The captain walked a very fine line.

And suddenly… was that a faint light in the distance? The sea began to calm, the waves subsided, and, yes, there was the beacon from the lighthouse. They were safe for now. Cheers erupted from the deck, the captain wiped the sweat from his brow, and joined the jubilation as one more ship was saved by the diligence of the light keeper who kept the fire going all night long.

Those early lighthouses that dotted our newly settled coastline were literally a lifeline for ships attempting to navigate often rocky coastal waters or avoid going aground in sand. The first keepers carried coal to an open brazier at the top of the tower. It is estimated they burned about a ton of coal a night, but on a stormy night, that number could rise to three tons, and was accomplished by perhaps three light keepers. It was the most labor-intensive occupation of the seventeen hundreds.

By the early nineteenth century, coal was being phased out and replaced first by whale oil, later kerosene, and a highly effective Fresnel lens. This compact lens is designed with a series of concentric, stair-stepped grooves that dramatically reduce the amount of material and weight of a conventional lens while maintaining the ability to bend and focus light. The lens is illuminated by a single, much smaller light, and the advent of electricity eliminated the need for a light keeper to transport fuel to the top.

Most of the lighthouses of the past have been retired in favor of new technology that allows sailors to read the ocean in great clarity. But many states and communities have continued to maintain their “lights” as a beautiful part of our history. Some can only be spied from a distance, while others are open for tours. In our travels, I never failed to talk Ken into stopping to check out a nearby lighthouse. The simplicity of their origins fascinates my imagination, and the technology of their development provides a glimpse into the intricacies of navigation.

Our daughter’s family is vacationing in the Great Lakes area now. They have visited lighthouses along their way and posted photos so that we can track their adventures. At the same time, we are experiencing lots of stormy weather during this season, and that started me thinking of Jesus as our lighthouse. When we’re enduring storms in this life—and we all do—he quietly watches over us, and when we become weary from the burden of our storm, he turns the light on for us and illuminates the way forward. He is our anchor in the storm and the solid rock on which we can rebuild. In the darkest of times, Jesus can turn on the lights and provide the clarity we need to withstand whatever troubles we have.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. John 1:5

If you have an opportunity to visit a lighthouse and learn its history, I encourage you to take the time. It’s well worth it. And while you’re there, think about the times in your life when Jesus has turned on the “Light” for you. We don’t know if our sea captain of old was a follower, but I like to imagine that on that very stormy night, he may have had a brilliant encounter with the Savior of the universe.

I am the light of the world. If you follow me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life. John 8:1