Sock it to me?

During the week, I get up at 6:00am. But on Sunday morning, I arise at 5:30, before the other members of my family. They are not morning people, so I try to let them sleep as long as possible. I’ve grown accustomed to getting out of bed while it’s still dark and, for the most part, it hasn’t caused me any problems. I can find my clothes in the dark. I know where I put my shoes. My wallet is always in its place. But occasionally I will discover—too late—that I’ve made a mistake. I’ll be at church, ready to teach my class, when I notice I have on one blue sock and one black sock. Or one dark brown and one black.
It’s my own fault. Usually I roll my socks together after they’ve been laundered. But there are always a few strays, a few orphan socks whose mate is…somewhere…probably in my sock drawer. So I put the strays in the drawer and then, some dark morning, I can’t find a pair that’s been rolled and I pick out two that sorta seem, in the pre-dawn dimness, to be alike. And therein lies the lesson. In darkness, it is difficult to make the right choices. You make a guess and take a chance. Sometimes it’s the wrong choice.
That’s when I have to find the time to dump all the stray socks out on the bed, during the afternoon, with the blinds open and the sunlight shining in. Now it’s much easier to tell the blue from the brown or the black. All I have to do is let the light in.
How frequently do we make choices blindly, choices which are much more important than what color socks to wear today? We ask for guidance and then sit there in the dark, hoping we will do the right thing. Don’t you want to choose wisely? The light switch is right there. Flip on the light. Open the blinds.
Let in the Light.