This morning my son announced that we should look for Jupiter tonight. It’s suppose to be the brightest light in the sky just after sunset and visible until dawn. Unfortunately, skies are cloudy, but I’m going to look for it anyway.
In the midst of the hurry and the rush of the day, in between roasting carrots, wrapping presents, and getting ready for a family Christmas party, I was suddenly drawn to pick up an old familiar favorite. The one novel I’ve read more than any other—A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle. All is not right in the world, and I needed reassurance from Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which that there is still goodness and light to be found.
Something tells me there may be others who need this right now too.
An ordinary girl named Meg, her extraordinary little brother Charles Wallace, and their popular, yet misunderstood neighbor Calvin, set out on an adventure through time and space to rescue Meg and Charles Wallace’s father who has been captured by an Evil force.
On the way there, the Ws take them to see the Happy Medium. To help them understand what they are up against. She has a big crystal ball in which to see anything in the universe. She doesn’t like looking at troubling things. She doesn’t want to show them their home planet. But eventually she gives in. The children and the women stare down at an image of Earth, obscured by an unsettling shadow.
"But what is it?” Calvin demanded. “We know that it’s evil, but what is it?”
“Yyouu hhave ssaidd itt!” Mrs. Which’s voice rang out. “Itt iss Eevill. Itt iss thee Ppowers of Ddarrkknesss!”
“But what’s going to happen?” Meg’s voice trembled. “Oh please, Mrs. Which, tell us what’s going to happen!”
“Wwe wwill cconnttinnue tto ffightt!”
Something in Mrs. Which’s voice made all three of the children' stand straighter, throwing back their shoulders with determination, looking at the glimmer that was Mrs. Which with pride and confidence.
“And we’re not alone, you know, children,” came Mrs. Whatsit, the comforter. “All through the universe it’s being fought, all through the cosmos, and my, but it’s a grand and exciting battle. I know it’s hard for you to understand about size, how there is very little difference in the size of the tiniest microbe and the greatest galaxy. You think about that, and maybe it won’t seem so strange to you that some of our very best fighters have come right from your own planet, and it’s a little planet, dears, out on the edge of a little galaxy. You can be proud that it’s done so well.”
“Who have our fighters been?” Calvin asked.
“Oh, you must know them, dear,” Mrs. Whatsit said.
Mrs. Who’s spectacles shown out at them triumphantly, “And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.”
“Jesus!” Charles Wallace said. “Why of course, Jesus!”
“Of course!” Mrs. Whatsit said. “Go on, Charles, love. There were others. All your great artists. They’ve been lights for us to see by.”
“Leonardo da Vinci?” Calvin suggested tentatively. “And Michelangelo?”
“And Shakespeare,” Charles Wallace called out, “and Bach! And Pasteur and Madame Curie and Einstein!”
Now Calvin’s voice rang with confidence. “And Schweitzer and Gandhi and Buddha and Beethoven and Rembrandt and St. Francis!”
Who else shall we add? The lights in the darkness? Fred Rogers, of course. Martin Luther King, Jr. Mother Teresa. Rosa Parks. Betty White. Robin Williams. Dolly Parton. Greta Thunberg. Elie Wiesel. Madeleine L’Engle.
Any artist, theologian, activist, or ordinary person who ever lived that has chosen to make and fight for goodness and light can be counted in this number. Even you.
“Look for the helpers,” Fred Rogers would say.
Look for the light. All hope is not lost.
Now let’s go back to the brave children in this story:
Again they focused their eyes on the crystal ball. The earth with its fearful covering of dark shadow swam out of view and they moved rapidly through the Milky Way. And there was the Thing again.
“Watch!” the Medium told them.
The Darkness seemed to seethe and writhe. Was this meant to comfort them?
Suddenly there was a great burst of light through the Darkness. The light spread out and where it touched the Darkness the Darkness disappeared. The light spread until the patch of Dark Thing had vanished, and there was only a gentle shining, and through the shining came the stars, clear and pure. Then slowly, the shining dwindled until it, too, was gone, and there was nothing but stars and starlight. No shadows. No fear. Only stars and the clear darkness of space, quiet different from the fearful darkness of the Thing.
“You see!” the Medium cried, smiling happily. “It can be overcome! It is being overcome all the time!”
Praying for glimmers of goodness in light in your ordinary life right now. The Powers of Darkness will be overcome—they are being overcome all the time.
Keep shining,
—NK
I didn't know how much I needed your words ... Praying for that goodness and light and all those working right now to bring this to life. And I hope you and your son get a glimpse of Jupiter (we saw it last night in clear desert skies).
Have you ever read any of Madeline L'Engle's devotional writings? It's been 20 or so years for me, but she has many wonderful nonfiction works, particularly around theology stuff. High recommendation.