I have just come out of a gloomy room into a sunny room to write these
words. I had my choice. I could have stayed in the sombre room, but I
choose to come into the sun-lit room and the warm, cheering beams are even
now falling upon my page. "Walk in the light!" And I make my choice, and
how often I choose to walk without Christ in the unfertilizing and
unfruitful gloom of self-will! In the light of the Lord I could have a
garden of Eden; how often I choose the dingy wilderness where I can grow
neither flowers nor fruits.
"Walk in the light." The Lord's companionship always makes the sunny side
of the street. It may be that the way is rough and stony and difficult,
but in His company there is light that never fails, compared with which
the world's noontide is only as the gloomiest night. And the souls that
"walk in the light" gather "sacred sweets" all along the way. Heavenly
fruits grow for the children of light, fruits of love and joy and peace,
and the favoured pilgrim plucks them as he goes along. "All I find in
Jesus." The way of light is the way of delight, and "the joy of the Lord
is our strength."