The White Light Theory

Since the last "goodbye everybody" of the last Oprah show in May, I've missed the anticipation each weekday of what would be on Oprah that day. It was always my little hour of respite during the day. However, I've been re-watching the old ones that have been airing and, although I've seen them before, it is still an education to me and I still enjoy watching them.

Friday, I watched the one about children with mental illness. She had a one on one conversation with a 9 year old little boy who was suffering with fits of rage and even tried to kill his mother. He explained the reason he was having these rages was because of the outside negative forces, even telling her that he heard scary voices that told him to do bad things. I've always been aware of the spiritual war that wages around us and the one that stirs my own soul to battle, but I was riveted as I listened to this little boy describe it so concretely. When he moved on to tell her how he has learned to handle it, I was even more taken aback. He said that he simply covers himself in a white light and this keeps the negative forces away. It was something that he had to do every morning, to "put on" this beautiful white light. He said that he had to continually tell himself positive things, "I am cool, I am awesome, I am light, I am love" and this was his way of combating evil. I don't know about you, but that was amazingly profound to me. We are told to put on the armor of God, but to picture this as a white light almost makes me want to cry.

I hear that evil voice all the time. It is the one that tells me that I'm stupid, fat, and ugly. It is the voice that tells me I'm never going to be anything other that what I am. It tells me that I might as well eat the whole pack of Oreo's because I already ate two. It tells me that I need a stiff drink to ease my pain and get me through my angst. It tells me that Rodney doesn't really love me, how could he? It tells me that I'm a big old mess and I might as well get comfortable in it. It tells me that I'm a terrible mother. It tells me that I'm not nearly smart enough to be a photographer with any kind of integrity and to just give it up and quit waisting my time.

It wearies me, this evil voice. I've been going to church since I was a baby and have read the scripture about God's armor a hundred thousand times. But, there was something about that little boy, Zach was his name, explaining it in the words of a child that has me all fired up to combat the enemy like never before. To cover myself in the precious white light of the Almighty and head out into the world with an impenetrable force of positive energy has me just a little bit excited.

This morning, I woke up alone. Rodney got Kyle up bright and early to head down to the chicken house to work on a water problem. I walked to the coffee pot, which had been turned off, poured myself a cup of luke-warm coffee, put it in the microwave and walked outside. One of the first things I do every day is to make sure everybody has plenty of water. So I dragged the hose out to the goat pen and began filling up their water bucket. I headed back towards the deck, my bare feet crunching through the dried, parched ground and something stopped me in my tracks. I stopped right under the big oak tree in the yard, reached my hands up to the heavens and said, "God! Help me!" I continued to stand there for a while just raising my hands to the sky looking upward and suddenly a cool breeze swept through that mighty oak just above my outstretched hands and surrounded me like the wings of a thousand angels. I just stood there and let God surround me with His white light. It was a physical demonstration of His great love for me and I was moved to tears.

I don't expect every God encounter to be that amazing nor do I doubt that there will be even more amazing ones in this life. But, today, I started off my day with God and it has strengthened my soul greatly. I even ate a fried bologna sandwich for lunch and, instead of feeling guilty, every bite took me back to my childhood and I smiled and enjoyed every sweet second of it. I'd say that's pretty amazing.