One evening in December, my boys and I navigated enchanting neighborhood streets, savoring their transformation. One particular hilltop cul-de-sac dazzled our eyes with its extensive light displays. Mechanical reindeer stood by streams of blue lights. Multicolored strands lined driveways, walkways and windows. Christmas decorations filled every yard and roof top.

As we slowly turned around in the large circle, our attention was suddenly captured by rows of luminaries stretching down the steep hill and up again, cresting on the other side. The flames of fire that flickered in those plastic jugs went on and on, their brightness shining forth, radically transforming the nighttime darkness.

We stopped the car, turned off the headlights, and basked in the beauty that lay before us. In that moment, I saw what I had not seen before. I saw what I dared to believe heaven sees every day: darkness penetrated by “plain old milk-jug vessels” filled with Holy Spirit fire.

“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned … For to us a child is born, to us a son is given …” (Isaiah 9:2, 6).

Excitement built. I saw my own significance in a new way — in a corporate way. Each light that lined the street played a part in the awesome beauty we enjoyed. Similarly, the light of Christ in me can glow more strongly when united with other believers shining their lights.

“[H]e will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of His government and peace there will be no end” (Isaiah 9:6-7).

The glimmering radiance mesmerized me and I understood anew that although Christ no longer walks among us, His fire burns in the hearts of those who have surrendered their lives to Him. It’s a fire that permeates the darkness, a fire that emanates His peace. It’s a blaze that burns from generation to generation out of earthen, milk-jug vessels like you and me.

Jesus spoke to a crowd early in His ministry, “You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in Heaven” (Matthew 5:14-16).

After His death and resurrection, the radical day of Pentecost dawned. Jesus’ disciples “saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each one of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit …” (Acts 2:3-4). God sent His promised Counselor in the form of fire, or perhaps in an unquenchable, burning passion to share the good news. For there remain “people walking in darkness” (Isaiah 9:2).

I don’t pretend to know how much longer this earth will turn on its axis or how many days until our Lord returns, but I do know that there is a desperate need for those who carry the light to shine forth with ever increasing brilliance. The darkness longs to snuff out what threatens its domain.

Perhaps Christmas should serve, not as a time for participating in a frenzied holiday crunch time, but as something that calls us to bask in wonder — a time to rekindle the flame within.

The story is truly awesome: After 400 years of silence, God spoke. A virgin conceived and bore a Son. Angels sang — their brilliance witnessed by tired, dirty shepherds. Overjoyed, those same sheep keepers ran to see the newborn King lying in a manger. One holy night in Bethlehem, God’s Light entered this dismal darkness. And that Light still shines today.

We celebrate Christmas, the Word made flesh, but all too often we end the season tired, disappointed, and maybe even lonely. By New Year’s Day, we’re as spent as the rest of humanity.

There must be another way.

As I drove those luminary-lined streets, I longed for my earthen vessel to shine with Jesus’ light. I longed to listen closely to God’s still, small voice and to reach out as He guides my path, so my flicker can join with another, and another … and grow into a blaze of change. The Christmas season can be a time of empowerment if we’ll pause and reflect and allow the Divine to touch the ordinary once again.

Yes, the darkness is real. But light shines brightest in the dark of night. So let’s not cave in. Instead, let’s allow this Christmas season to serve as a reminder that a Light has dawned.

And then, let’s blaze into the New Year, ready to make a difference — ready to light the way for those who live in the shadow of darkness and death.