Wow. Here I am, inside Aroma’s coffee shoppe. I just went swimming at the Community Center on Jefferson Avenue. As I was swimming the sky opened up and the sun shone through the many windows on the West wall filling the entire pool room with light. And I thought about the scripture “put on the armor of light” which comes from the book of Romans. I felt as though I was wearing an armor of light in that moment and a wide grin spread across my face just like the light spread across the bottom of the pool below me as I swam down the lane, just before touching the wall.
And I started mentally putting on the armor of Christ. First, the belt of truth. Then the breastplate of righteousness. Followed by the shoes of peace. Then the helmet of salvation. And then I picked up the sword of the spirit, which is the Word of God. And I lifted up the shield of faith. And nothing could touch me. And I knew it. I know it. Nothing can touch me as long as the armor of God is on me. And I don’t have to consciously put on the armor every day, as in going through the prayer in my mind. I have the armor on already because I am in Christ. I have been in Christ for almost three years. I confessed that Jesus was my Lord and Savior when I was about 7 or 8 years old but I didn’t understand what that really meant until almost three years ago. Three years in June. A child of God. A child of light. For God is light. And we are called to be like Him. And we are being conformed to His image a little more each day.
I am the light in the room. I am the light in the pool that floods the space and brightens my face and the faces of others. I cannot be ignored. I am set apart. I am not of the world. I am holy, because Christ makes me holy. I am righteous, because Christ has made me righteous.
And so I swam. And I… danced. I danced. I smiled and danced. Each time I took a breath I wonder if the lifeguard off to my left side saw my smiling face as I gulped for air.
I hope he did.
And I hope he wondered why I was filled with joy. I like to think that I would have been filled with that same joy even if the sun hadn’t come through the windows. I know I could never have this joy if the Son hadn’t come through the window of my life and woken me up almost three years ago. I was swimming in an especially dark place then and wasn’t even aware of how dead I was. How much I needed Him. But when the light came in, when the Son shone in, it brightened everything. I saw everything so much more clearly. My life. My position. My priorities. My aspirations. My dedications. My value. My worth. All of these things rooted in the wrong things. Because if God is not first and foremost; if God is not at the center of my life and my thoughts and all that I do, I am swimming aimlessly. I’m swimming all over the pool and never getting anywhere. I’m swimming slowly and with so much effort and never accomplishing any goals. But when that light shone in, when the light shines in, I have order. I can see clearly now the rain is gone. Just kidding, I can see clearly how much tile is preceding the wall before I have to turn. I can see rays glittering through the water casting curvy, artistic shadows on the pool floor. I am reminded of light, the Father of light. Jesus, the light of the world. I am reminded that I am that same light, because He bought me and made me so. I am His. And He is mine.
And I swim. And I dance.