Thick darkness only exists in the absence of light. In the same way, the injustice only oppresses real humans because safety, security, fairness and everything short of perfect has been trampled.

I am sitting on a hill, a cool ocean breeze ruffling my hair. The sun is setting. It should be a glorious picture.

But, in reality, I can’t see the ocean. The dusk light might glow against my skin, but I am miles inland. Tonight, if I was sitting on the shore, I wouldn’t see an ounce of a glowing glorious sunset. Although the beach is just miles away, it is covered in a thick layer of fog.

You know how disappointing it is to rush to the ocean for that golden sunset, only to get a mile or two away and realize that you will see no orange orb falling into the sea? Instead, you will just be cold and gray.

That is what the state of our world is like.

Over here, where I sit in sunny (or foggy) San Diego I am not really affected by injustice very much. I can usually stay away from injustice, segregating myself, even though evil abounds here too. I can enjoy my figurative ocean sunset it peace.

But then I turn on the news, and there, injustice is laid plain. Lies, murders, gaps in protection, corruption, oppression, missing laws . . . the unheard and the unseen. These are only a small blip of what falls short of perfect and good on our planet. No wonder we prefer to ignore, escape, distract, or–sometimes just as ineffectually–fight to exhaustion because we don’t hold the perspective of hope.


It is always about perspective, isn’t it?

When I am in the fog, I can’t see the sun. I can believe it exists, but I can’t see it.

Alternatively, when I am on the mountain, looking at the foggy area and the sun setting behind it, I can see the good and the lovely.

These aren’t new metaphors. They are probably as old as time–but they stand true.

Right now, I have a chance to look at the sun setting–the good and the lovely; the light as it pierces the clouds.

I capture this image because I will need it later.

The best way to survive when I can’t see the sun is to maintain the perspective of what it looks like beyond the fog. I write about it in my journal. I play music that reminds me of it. I post pictures of joyful times on my walls and screens. I keep miniature reminders of light on my fridge and bulletin board. I do this because my experience has taught me that as soon as the weather turns, or as soon as I move my mind out of my “safe” reality, I will forget the light immediately.

We must prepare ourselves to remember that the sun exists when darkness abounds.

Take this metaphor to heart so you won’t drown in darkness.

For the lengths of our lives we will continue to be somberly reminded that we live in a world where evil abounds, where darkness wants to quench the light.

But darkness can never win as long as their is a spark. And with the right materials, we can build that spark into a roaring, sweeping fire.

Choose to not ignore the fog far away.

Then choose to never let it overtake you, even if you are surrounded by gray.

Determine to carry and cling to a piece of the sun, that picture of good, and tuck it safely within.