“GOD is my Light.”
On the coast of Jersey, there is a grand lighthouse called La Corbiére. It is built of stone, and is perched high up on the rocks, so that you have to climb a very steep flight of steps to reach it. At high tide it is cut off from the mainland, when it looks like a little fortress in the midst of the sea, with here and there tiny islands of rock around it. When the sea is rough, of course its inmates are quite prisoners, but electric wires give them the power of sending messages to the shore. At low tide, the jagged rocks come into view, and you see the terrible dangers that threaten vessels which get out of their course. Thousands of people travel far to look upon that lighthouse, for it makes a very striking scene in all states of the tide; the lonely headland, the heather-clad heights, the stretching bays, the brown rocks in every conceivable position, now high, now low, sometimes covered by the water, and sometimes peering above it like dragons waiting for their prey, and, far out as one can see, the great channel on which move the steamships, the yachts and fishing vessels, all heedless of La Corbiére and her terrors—for it is day.
But at night time it is a different story.
Then the headland is blotted out or wrapped in shadowed gloom, and far over the waters the light from La Corbiére is streaming. And miles away the man on the bridge of some vessel in the Channel sees it and knows it, remembers the terrible rocks, and is thankful for the lighthouse.
When you are young, you sometimes think it troublesome to be told about God and His Commandments, and such solemn subjects. But when you grow up, you will be glad to see His Light and recognize it, and remember the Commandments and the perils of getting out of your course.
Meanwhile, it is a good thing to learn all about your Heavenly Father, and especially about Jesus, the Light of the World, though there may not be much, perhaps, that you can understand.
A little further on, and only a few miles from La Corbiére, there is Fort St. Heliers, with two harbors, one behind the other. It is because of that harbor, and of the number of ships that want to reach it in safety, that the lighthouse of La Corbiére has been built. Of course, there are other lights besides that one, to show the way into St. Heliers, for the passage between the great rocks at the entrance to the harbor is very narrow, and a few yards out of the way would mean all the difference between safety and destruction. So the ships move carefully on from light to light, and as they are able to keep in line with the various lights, so they know that they are steering straight for the harbor-mouth.
And that is the way it is with us. We are all making for a harbor, and it is because of that, that we need God for our Light. And if we look carefully in our chart, and follow what it tells us, we shall safely make the harbor.
At La Corbiére, when the morning comes, the men in charge of the lighthouse have their work to do. When the lamps are out, they must be cleaned, and all the glasses and reflectors made as bright as can be. And in the afternoon, you may see a man coming across the space to the foot of the steps, wheeling a barrow with a big can of oil. That is needed every day to feed the lamps.
God is our Light. But, if the light is going to shine in our hearts, there is something which we ought to do every day, and that is—keep our lamps bright and clean. Learn to think good thoughts and do right things. Light springs up for those who do right.