Rooted in Grace: Light, Shadow, and the In-Between

I’m watching for the moment the trees finally go bare. The air carries both the ache and the beauty of transition. I’m listening to one of my favorite bands, Mipso, and their song Coming Down the Mountain: 

“But I'm comin' down the mountain again 
Get the word to all my good time friends 
The fishin' was fine but fishin' comes to an end 
I'm comin' down the mountain again.” 

Our church’s yearly cycle is about to start over again, with a new year at Advent. It’s a time of waiting and wondering, learning to trust that what’s next will come in its own time. 

This Sunday, our youth will lead us in preaching, sharing their reflections on Isaiah 9:1–7—a passage that begins in deep shadow and ends in radiant hope. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light,” Isaiah writes. These words were first spoken to a weary, fearful people under the pressure of empire. And yet, even in that fear, Isaiah dares to speak hope—a child will be born, peace will come, justice will reign. 

As we hear these words today, it’s worth remembering that not all darkness is bad, and not all light is easy. Darkness can also be where seeds take root, where wisdom grows, where God’s mystery dwells unseen. The problem isn’t the dark itself—it’s when we forget that God is present in both light and shadow, calling us toward healing and wholeness. 

This truth is the grounding we need now. In a world where wars rage, the news stirs anxiety, and fear grows louder than kindness, Isaiah invites us to remember that God’s light is not dependent on human power. It breaks in anyway—through the cracks, through acts of compassion and courage that refuse to give up on goodness. 

In our own lives, we may feel like we’re waiting for that light too—wondering what God is birthing among us, who we’re becoming, and what kind of love might move us next. But Isaiah reminds us that God’s promise isn’t just about the future—it’s already unfolding here and now, rooted deep in grace. 

So come this Sunday. Come to listen, to hope, to be led by the voices of our youth—voices that see what we sometimes miss. Come to remember that even now, God’s love is moving. Still steady. Still strong. Still making all things new. 

Peace, 
Pastor Katie