Last week, the children and I went on a 40 mile snowmobile ride that took us up to the Bone Springs warming hut in the Blue Mountains. There’s around 10 feet of snow in the Blues right now, which is phenomenal for this time of year.

It was a beautiful sunny day with the sun glistening brightly off the snow as we zipped up the hills, over the snowdrifts, through the fluff and along steep canyon walls.

When we got to the top and took off our helmets, we were amazed to see the Bone Springs hut buried in snow. The “hut” is a small building with a wood stove inside for people in the wilderness to find warmth or protection if in trouble. The white stuff was so deep, that your feet on the ground where above the top of the door. We descended through a narrow tunnel down to the entry that had been carved out by shovels, only to find ourselves blinded when we stepped inside the structure. We could see almost nothing even though light was pouring in behind us.

I stopped and sought out a spiritual lesson from the pitch darkness I saw before me.

I knew the room had light in it, for the door was open behind me. But I could not see. My eyes were accustomed to the bright light outside reflecting off the white snow. They were not accustomed to the dark and were not taking in enough light to see. I knew that if I waited long enough, my eyes would adjust, and forms would start to appear. And sure enough, in a few minutes I could see everything in the room with ease.

I thought about different mindsets people entertain that have similar effects.

For example, take someone who is naturally a grateful and joyous person, who sees good in everyone. Suggest to them that nothing good is going on, life is miserable, and they should feel miserable, and your comments are likely to have as much effect on them as a passing shadow has on the ground it temporarily darkens. They will not be convinced because they know better. And they will not “see” the miserable soul’s point of view.

Or conversely, take a small spirit who is all caught up into self, living in their own self-centered world, and put them it with people of a generous out-going spirit, and they likely will still feel isolated and lonely. They do not “see” the love that is all around.

Mary Baker Eddy said it well when she wrote,

Walking in the light, we are accustomed to the light and require it; we cannot see in darkness. But eyes accustomed to darkness are pained by the light.

Interestingly, when we walked out of the hut into the bright sunshine, the light was so piercingly bright we had to close our eyes for it was too much to take in until our eyes adjusted again.

The lesson I took back down the mountain was to have patience when standing in apparent darkness. Just as I knew there was light in that room, even though I couldn’t see, with patience, my eyes adjusted appropriately and objects became discernible. There was light where there seemed to be no light.

In life we may find ourselves in situations that appear very dark. But there is light present to brighten the view. We may need to be patient while our mental eyes adjust to the light and let it in, but as the light dawns on thought and illuminates the view, what we thought was absent becomes discernible.

God is all. God is Light. The Light is everywhere. We live in the Light! And this truth, accepted and understood, can dispel a whole lot of darkness.