Guest post by Michael Tate--The Lenten Lighthouse

Phare de la Jument, France

In my effort to bring guest writers to this blog space, I am happy to introduce a second writer this Lenten season: Michael Tate. You can find his writing on his Facebook page. 

I invite you to read this piece that he posted today, allowing it to be a Lenten reflection. 

What do you glean from these words?

Me? I glean hope.

Rev. Deb

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The Lenten Lighthouse

I have stood for more than a century.  Shining my light of both warning and safety for generations of mariners.  Even as many of my brothers and sisters fell into disrepair and deterioration I stood fast.  For those of us who remained, I was one of the lucky few who warranted automation because of the treachery of the rocks below.  Even with all of their modernization, those mariners needed my help.

And yet I stand a forgotten sentinel.  Too  far for visitors and too electronic for a keeper.  I remain vigilant in deafening silence.  My light silently screams of the danger still.   Yet I feel I have become that which has been given up.  Would they even know if I just stopped?  Would they know if I gave into the waves?  

Perhaps that is what I shall give up.  I may not have eyes with which to see a calendar but I mark the seasons and the passing of the phases of the moon.  My memory is long and I remember the joy of my keepers.  I heard the words of lent and sacrifice and return.  I embody the first two but no one returns for me.  So perhaps I shall give them up, all those who have forgotten me.

Then a twinkle strikes my glass.  A bright star, freckled upon the ebony sky, winks at me.  From its impossible distance it sees me standing here alone.  It reminds me of the other words I have heard.  The sacrificed stood alone.  Betrayed and abandoned.   Hurt and broken and bleeding.  Lifted up above a sea of people becoming at once a beacon of hope in a rocky cursed world.  

This lamb made no noise the words go.  He did not protest His fate nor did He give those up, even those who had forgotten him.  These words echo through the spirals of my stairs and strengthens my foundation.   

Then I hear another sound in my memory.   The laughter of the keeper's children bounce lovingly off my walls.   The innocent smiles and caring hands that once filled my days all combine with the story of the One who died and yet lived just as the horizon darkens.

I choose to give up fear and doubt and self loathing.  Not just for weeks and days but for all of my time whatever that shall be.  My light shines brighter as I choose to shine as a beacon of truth and home.  I am the symbol of the word salvation as I illuminate a path through the dark to the safe harbor.  

The lenten lighthouse stands shining its solitary light for whosoever will see it and seek its safe harbor.  Don't give up shining your light even if you feel as if you're the only one.   Some lost ship being tossed by storms can only see one light and it is yours.  Without you, they may not find their way to safety.

~Michael Tate 

(Photo posted on his FB page, French lighthouse)