Longing for Light: A Prayer Through Seasons of Healing

by Lori Wilson

We have now turned the page in our seasons, and we are in spring. Yet I realize that through this last part of winter, I have been longing for Light—longing to see God in the midst of this world, in the midst of memories I have been working through. Times in my life when I felt lost, alone, and afraid. I realize I was waiting in what felt like darkness, longing for God to be my light.

It's not easy sometimes to realize that you have healed from something in your past, only to find that it circles back around again. God invites you to heal a bit more, to see a bit more clearly. In hindsight, I can be grateful for the opportunity. But in the midst of it, it is painful. The invitation to deeper healing often arrives unannounced, catching us off guard just when we thought we had already walked through that particular darkness.

In these times when I feel overemotional and unsure about what is going on, I reach out to people who love me for support. I lean on my spiritual director. I ask God to be my light. And I return to practices that help me remember whose I am, even when I cannot yet see the way forward.

This song, by Bernadette Farrell and Frank Brownstead, "Christ Be Our Light," I adapted to make more personal. I changed the lyrics so when I sing it, the words come from my heart to God. This is my favorite pianist's version of it. Maybe it can become part of your prayer too—a way of naming your own longing for light, your own need for shelter, your own desire to belong and to be transformed into light for others.

Longing for light, I wait in darkness 

Longing for truth, I turn to You 

Make me Your own, Your holy daughter 

Light for the world to see

Christ, be my light 

Shine in my heart 

Shine through the darkness 

Christ, be my light 

Shine in your child, waiting for you.

Longing for shelter, many are homeless 

Longing for warmth, many are cold 

Make me Your building, sheltering others 

Walls made of living love

Christ, be my light 

Shine in my heart 

Shine through the darkness 

Christ, be my light 

Shine in your child, waiting for you.

Many the gifts, many the people 

Many the hearts that yearn to belong 

Let us be servants to one another 

Making Your kingdom come

Christ, be my light 

Shine in my heart 

Shine through the darkness 

Christ, be my light 

Shine in your child, waiting for you.

There is something profoundly honest about this prayer. It doesn't pretend we always walk in light. It acknowledges the waiting, the longing, the way we sometimes circle back to places we thought we had already left behind. It names our need for shelter and warmth—not just physical but emotional and spiritual. And it holds together two seemingly opposite movements: receiving light and becoming light for others. We cannot give what we have not received. The prayer asks Christ to shine in our hearts first, so that light can then shine through us.

Perhaps that is what this season of waiting has been teaching me. That I cannot rush past my own need for light in order to be light for others. That the very act of waiting in darkness, of honestly naming my longing and fear, is itself a form of prayer. That God meets us in these places—not after we have healed enough to be presentable, but in the midst of our overflowing emotions and uncertainty.

Reflection Questions

• Where in your life right now are you longing for light? What does that longing feel like in your body, in your prayer, in your daily life?

• Have you experienced healing from something in your past, only to find God inviting you into a deeper layer of healing? How do you respond to these invitations when they arrive?

• Who are the people in your life you reach out to when you feel lost or uncertain? How does their presence help you remember God's light?

• How might you adapt this prayer—or another prayer, song, or practice—to speak more personally from your heart to God?

• What would it mean for you to trust that even your waiting in darkness is a sacred part of your spiritual journey, not something to be rushed through or fixed?

Prayer

Holy One,

You know the places where I am longing for light. You see the memories I am working through, the old fears that circle back around, the moments when I feel lost and alone. Meet me here, in this tender place of waiting.

Be my light when I cannot yet see the way forward. Shine in my heart when the darkness feels too heavy. Shelter me when I am cold and afraid. And when I am ready, transform me into your dwelling place—walls made of living love, a space where others can find warmth and belonging.

Help me trust that this season of waiting is not wasted time. That you are present in the darkness, not only in the dawn. That healing happens in layers, and each invitation to go deeper is a sign of your faithfulness, not my failure.

Make me your own. Light for the world to see.

Amen.