What would it be like to live in darkness?  I guess this depends on how we define darkness.  Is it the inability to see physically?  Is it the inability to see spiritually?  Is it living in a place without light?  Is it living in the northern climes of the planet during the coldest stages of winter?
     Or is it, as Anna Lyndsey (a pen name), writes in her recently published memoir, Girl in the Dark, to live with a skin condition that precludes her from exposing herself to direct light?  Once as active as any of us, a number of years ago Lyndsey was diagnosed with a rare skin condition that, if she ventures into any type of light, she feels as if her skin is on fire.  The more and stronger the light, the more intense the burning.
     As a result, Lyndsey no longer works outside her home.  She spends her days in a darkened room, listening to books on tape, doing a little writing on a dimly lit computer screen, waiting for her male companion to come home.  Only at dusk, when the sun's light fades, does she dare go outside and explore.
     Besides pitying the conditions in which Lyndsey must live, I think as well of how, as I intimated earlier, her situation reflects, in many ways, our corporate experience.  We all live in darkness of some kind.  Sometimes we know we do; sometimes we do not.  It seems, however, that the latter is the most insidious.  Self-delusion topples everyone.
     As most religions know, darkness is often the path to light.  I hope that more and more with each passing day Lyndsey finds this to be true.  Indeed, I hope that all of us walk in our darknesses looking for the light.  I hope that all of us come to see that although the world is rife with darkness, the fact of its being created means that, ultimately, its light is what will define it.
     So does John say, "God is light and in him there is no darkness at all."