There was a recent line of storms that made us loose power three times over the last four days. The first night was the worst. We didn’t have electricity for 19 hours. In a house that includes four children, ages 9 down to 2.5-years-old, there was a certain level of anxiety and fear.

Thankfully, we are a family that likes to camp. So, we had some resources we could utilize in this situation. We set up two big battery-operated LED worklights, that flooded our living room and kitchen with light. A couple of votive candles in the bathroom, and we were set.

In a neighborhood sitting in complete darkness, the view into our home through the bay window in the front of our house was an anomaly. We actually saw cars slow down to look–to wonder–how does this house have power when all the others don’t?

In the Bible, in Matthew 5:14-16 it says this: “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”

Jesus delivers those words to His followers as he is preaching his “Sermon on the Mount.” As followers of Jesus, we too, get to be the light that God shines into this dark world.

During the storm, and the subsequent power outage, in my own home we “lit a lamp” and we “put it on a stand, to give light to all in the house,” when we turned on the batter-operated worklights. And that was all fine and good for the people of my own house. But what about the people in the rest of my neighborhood? They didn’t have physical light, and I wasn’t in a position to give them physical light.

But what about spiritual light? In that time of distress, I also missed an opportunity to give spiritual light to my family. During that time of fear (especially for my children), I did not sit down and pray with them. I did not point them to God’s Word, reminding them of the light we have in our lives because of Jesus. Instead, once their physical needs were met, I left. I got on my electric scooter (because the cars were trapped in the garage) and I went six blocks to the church.

I’m a pastor there, and remembered there was a blood drive, and that there might have been people stuck in a dark building they weren’t familiar with. By the time I got there, everyone had left, and the church was all locked up. And in that moment, I wrestled with the fact that I left my scared children with their mother, so I could go serve others. I didn’t see to the fear and distress of my own children.

Of course, they were safe, and were in no physical danger, yet (to them) the spiritual leader of the family left them when they needed him the most. As a father, and as a Christian, I have the responsibility to model “the kind of relationship we are to have with our God” to my children–turning to Him in the bad times, the good times, and even the mundane times. And, in this moment, I feel like I failed, as a dad and as a pastor.

I would love, one day, for my home to be a lighthouse. I would love my home to reflect what it says in Matthew 5:14-16. Right now, it doesn’t. This blog will document the process and the journey of working towards that goal. I invite you to join me, to join us (my family), as we create new paradigms and patterns, so that all of us in my family (and perhaps in yours), can truly reflect the light of Jesus in your homes, with your friends, to you neighbors, and into your community.