Midweek Musing- 3/25/26: Shed a Little Light

Midweek Musing: Shed a Little Light

I didn’t expect to find so many ideas, illustrations, and sermon material in a hospital room. But when you spend enough time in one place, you take what you can get.

Though after seeing the full bill before insurance today, I am wondering if perhaps, I should have been inspired with the next War and Peace.

Now the hospital took great care of me. But the TV channel selection was limited. There was no Hallmark, no Netflix. I could only handle so much daytime TV. So, most of the time the television was off.

I tried to read. But reading gets a little tricky depending on what medications you have been given. So, I did what a lot of us do… I turned to music on my phone and headphones.

Now our streaming service is Spotify. This service has this AI DJ. 

I am still not entirely convinced it’s not powered by some kind of Harry Potter magic but this DJ builds playlists based on what you’ve listened to before. And for whatever reason, it decided I needed a steady diet of David LaMotte, Paul Simon… and a whole lot of James Taylor.

And one song in particular kept showing up.

It was James Taylor’s “Shed a Little Light.”

It came up not once.

Not twice.

Six times in two days.

At first, I thought, “Alright Spotify, I get it. You’ve made your point.”

But then it kept coming back. And eventually, I stopped skipping it… and started listening to it.

Really listening.

Because sometimes what feels like randomness… becomes something more like invitation.

And lying there in that hospital room waiting, uncertain, and a little anxious if I’m being honest, that phrase started to settle in:

Shed a little light.

Not fix everything.

Not solve every problem.

Not eliminate every darkness.

Just… shed a little light.

And it made me wonder if maybe that’s exactly what following Jesus looks like more often than we realize.

Because Jesus says, “I am the light of the world.”

But then almost immediately he turns and says to his followers, “You are the light of the world.”

He doesn’t say we are the source.

We are, however, the reflection.

Like the moon reflecting the sun, we don’t generate the light, we carry it. We reflect it. We shine it into places that desperately need it.

And here’s a truth I realized in that room late one evening as the song came around AGAIN.

The places that need light the most are often the places where it is hardest and even the riskiest to bring it.

Places marked by injustice.

Places where cruelty has been normalized.

Places where people have been pushed aside, overlooked, or silenced.

Places where fear and hatred have been allowed to grow unchecked.

Places where death is not mourned… but celebrated.

Those places don’t welcome light.

Because light reveals.

Light exposes.

Light tells the truth.

And that can be uncomfortable. Even dangerous.

But this reminds us that our faith is not at its most authentic when it is safe, quiet, and contained.

Our faith is most authentic when we choose despite the circumstances to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God… even when the journey is long, even when it costs us something, even when we would rather stay in the comfort of the shadows.

Maybe that’s why that song wouldn’t let me go.

Because in a moment where I felt like I didn’t have much control, much clarity, or much certainty…

The call wasn’t to do everything.

It was simply this:

Shed a little light.

And so, I keep thinking about that hospital room.

The quiet.

The waiting.

The uncertainty.

A place that didn’t feel very bright… in more ways than one.

And yet, somehow, in the middle of it, that simple refrain kept finding me:

Shed a little light.

Not all the light.

Not fix everything.

Not drive out every shadow in a single moment.

Just… shed a little light.

Or put another way “simply do the good that is ours to do.”

So, I worked to shed it with smiles and thank you’s.

I spent a long while listening to a nurse tech share a story.

It wasn’t any big action; it was just shedding a little light.

And maybe that’s the invitation for all of us.

To step into a world that is still waiting, still uncertain, still carrying more darkness than we’d like to admit.

And to remember that we do not go alone, and we do not go empty.

We carry the light of Christ.

So, friends, where there is injustice…shed a little light.

Where there is hurt…shed a little light.

Where there is fear, division, or despair… shed a little light.

Because sometimes the most faithful thing we can do…

is not everything

but simply to reflect the Light of the world…

one small, even courageous act at a time.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Alleluia Amen.