Behind-the-Scenes Blog

It’s dark out there

This week has brought dangerous temperatures to the Midwestern United States, ice-coated trees to the South, and horrified hearts across the country after the events in Minnesota.

It’s dark out there. We need light in so many places. Maybe that’s why I am choosing to write about “light,” not “water,” in my reflection this week on the story of the woman at the well.

But before you jump to the conclusion that I’m stretching things a bit to connect the water at the well with light, hear me out. For starters, the stories in John have already set the stage. John the Baptist said that “the true light … was coming into the world” (John 1:9), and Jesus himself proclaimed that “the light has come into the world” (John 3:19).

The thing is, these statements about “light” are in the abstract. But in the story of the woman encountering Jesus at the well, the Light becomes real. Jesus is an actual person standing in front of a well in the middle of an ordinary day, meeting a woman in the middle of an ordinary task. But it is no ordinary meet-up. The woman is encountering Light that truly sees her and opens her eyes to new possibilities.

So, light it is. I’m going with that because, if ever we needed Light in our world, it’s now.

This week’s winter storms have certainly brought our need for light to the forefront, as people rushed to stocked up on candles and batteries in preparation. Even as I write, power outages are being reported in multiple areas. Pleas are going out to check on neighbors to see if they’ve lost power, and thanks are going out to power companies for all their work to keep the lights on.

In happier circumstances, we bring out lights when we celebrate. Think birthday candles, fireworks, candles for special dinners. Or grand openings. How many times have you seen an array of search lights playing across the night sky to announce the opening of a new business? Think, too, of the significance of the torch lighting the cauldron at the start of the Olympics. We do like our lights of joy.

But, now, in the midst of so many crises, light takes on a deeper significance.  

Light for comfort

The soft light of candles comforts me. In my small townhouse, I have candles lit in all my windows, 24/7. I put them up before Christmas, but I don’t see them as “Christmas” lights. For me, they are lights against the darkness of winter, and I leave them on until the time changes. They are lights of hope as dark descends early each day. They are lights of welcome in the pre-dawn hours when I get up early because I’ve had trouble sleeping. They are lights of reassurance for my neighbors, too. Just last week, a neighbor told me, “I love your window candles. When I’m out walking my dog very early, it is so comforting to see those lights.”

I have a sister who happens to have an amazing candle collection, and she always has candles at the ready, for any occasion. But one occasion in particular stands out in my mind.

It had been a miserable year for me, health-wise. I won’t go into all the details but suffice it to say that 12 days in a hospital, 2 surgeries, 2 weeks in rehab, 6 weeks of home IV infusions, and then back to the ER and another week in the hospital had taken their toll. Throughout it all, my candle-loving sister made numerous hour-long trips to my house and to the hospital to bring me what I needed and to be there for me.

As winter moved into spring that year, and I was beginning to feel more like myself, I wanted to do something special to thank her for her blessing of care. I decided to give her—and me—a mini-retreat. I found a place called “High Point Retreats” in the Driftless region of Wisconsin that had cabins with huge decks overlooking the hills. I imagined us sitting out there, quietly savoring the view together.

What I didn’t imagine—and should have, knowing my sister—was being surrounded by candles. Of course she brought along a delightful assortment of candles! Each evening, after reveling in the slow sunset from our deck, she lit those lovely lights all around the cabin so every corner glowed.

Those lights were lights of comfort, an encounter with Light.

“Thank you for always being a light in the dark places of the world and the dark places of our lives. Our hope is in God, for you are the light of the world and you call us to be lights for others. May your light and love blaze in us and in all the world. Amen.” *

Light for connection

Have you heard of Friendship Lamps? I hadn’t until a Facebook ad crossed my feed this week, but the timing was perfect. I looked them up and had to smile. Apparently, you can tap a lamp in your house and a paired lamp in someone else’s house lights up. You can even change the color of the light to send special messages. I don’t know how this works, but I love idea. And I love their slogan: “Let’s light up the world.”

This week, on Saturday, January 24, 2026, after the shooting of Alex Pretti in Minneapolis, a post showed up on Facebook announcing a “Shine a Light” campaign to show solidarity with the people of Minnesota. They asked people to light a candle in their window at 7 p.m. that night. The response was overwhelming, and beautiful. I saw photo after photo from neighborhood vigils, from Colorado, New Hampshire, Iowa, New York—even an article about residents in a senior living complex who crowded around a corner window in a dining room holding candles.

But it was a Facebook post inviting people to share photos of their candles that brought me to tears. I started scrolling … hundreds and hundreds of ordinary people in ordinary rooms, coming together through the symbol of light. Click here if you want to take a look.

Those lights were lights of connection, an encounter with Light.

“Transforming God, whose light always penetrates the darkness and whose love always overcomes hate, we ask that you sustain us as we struggle to make your light visible in an angry and frightened world.” *

Light for each other

Do you remember, as a kid, singing “This Little Light of Mine”? Our world certainly needs every bit of that light!

On the day before Alex’s shooting, more than 600 clergy from around the country had come together in the Temple Israel in Minneapolis to offer a “multifaith, multigenerational” service of prayer, song, and reflection. The invitation to join them stated, “This is not a rally or protest, but a chance to show up together to return to our moral and spiritual center and to stand together in solidarity with our neighbors.”

As I listened to this beautiful, eclectic mix of people sing “Everywhere I go, I’m going to let it shine,” I felt grateful that adults were still singing this message.** When I sang with them from my living room, I felt part of their love and strength and community. When the song kept popping into my head the next day, after Alex’s shooting, I held on to their hope.

As I thought a little more about Jesus being Light in our world, my mind made the leap to another statement Jesus made: “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). And he went on to make the analogy that light is not to be hidden, but to give “light to all in the house” (Matthew 5:15). So being on the receiving end of Light is only part of it; we need to BE light for each other.

If you have a minute, I encourage you to listen to Sara Thomsen singing her plaintive, grace-filled solo “We Are Each Other’s Light.” I can’t begin to find words to tell you what it means to me to be singing her words in these dark days, so I’ll share some of her lyrics and a link so you can hear them yourself:

In the face of fear and fright
In the deep and dark of night
We are each other’s light
—Sara Thomsen, “We Are Each Other’s Light”

Our lights are lights of hope, an encounter with Light, together.

“God, your light is the commencement and culmination of creation. From now until forever you are the light of life. You invite us to walk in your light and become lights to the world as we do so. Revive our hearts to sing, ‘This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine. Let it shine. Let it shine. Let it shine!’ Amen.” *

Light for the road ahead

So where do we go from here? How do we move forward in such fragile days? In a lovely book titled Wintering, British author Katherine May suggests that we need “a little light … just enough to see by.”

If you’ve ever used a flashlight to walk through a dark woods, you know the beam doesn’t go very far. But it is enough. Enough to see the roots you might trip over. Enough to see the uneven, rocky patches that might cause you to stumble. Enough to see where the bends are in the path ahead so you don’t lose your way.

That’s what I think we do now: Pray for enough Light to see by. Trust the Light to be enough to keep us on the path. Shine enough Light to help others see a way forward.

On January 21, 2026, three days before Alex Pretti’s death, author/artist Jan Richard posted a blessing on Facebook about night and light. Little could she have known at the time the importance of these words in the coming days.

what the night
is for,

how it takes
the broken things
and sets them
shining
to light our way
from here.
—Jan Richardson, “What the Night Is For,” from her newest book How the Stars Get in Your Bones: A Book of Blessings

So, today, as I consider what’s broken, I pray. I pray for comfort for the scared. For justice for those who have been hurt. For courage to stand against what’s wrong. For ways to heal deep wounds.

And I will keep the candles in my windows lit.

“Nurture us daily as we work for your justice in unjust places and your peace in places where no peace is to be found. Give us courage and strength when we are fearful and weak. Give us hope and forgiveness when we feel hopeless and angry. And guide us every step of the way as we walk toward the light. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.” *

—Marcia Broucek, graphic designer for Narrative Alive

I welcome your comments about my reflections. If you have anything you want to share about your journey, I invite you to share your experience in the Comments field below.

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* The prayers at the end of each section are excerpts from “Prayers of Light,” on the website of the United Methodist movement #ResistHarm.

** The complete interfaith service in Minneapolis is available for viewing on Vimeo

All scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition. Copyright © 2021 National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Click here to read more of Marcia’s blog posts.

Click here to see the Narrative Alive graphics and sermon themes for the Narrative Lectionary reading “Encountering the Light.”