The Lower Lights

Spring break in Manchester, New Hampshire wasn’t part of our plan—but sometimes the best journeys aren’t. My wife and I used frequent flyer miles for a trip as far as New England. Hotels and rental cars were surprisingly cheap, and though it was winter for locals, for us from the Texas coast, it was an adventure.

When we arrived, it was nothing like the Gulf Coast. The wind bit down as we climbed cold, gray granite, surf thundering against the rocks. Harbors brimmed with sturdy boats—this was a place shaped by the sea. Lighthouses dotted the coast, silent watchmen guarding against disaster.

One day, determined to get an up-close view, we parked and found ourselves scrambling over massive stone blocks. Every step was a reminder of how easy it would be to slip and fall. Standing on that flat rock, gazing up at the steady beam, I realized—to us, it was a landmark, a piece of history to admire. But it wasn’t built for decoration, any more than airports build control towers for looks. Lighthouses save lives.

As I stood there, it wasn’t just the history I saw—it was the purpose behind that steady beam. God pours out His light and love into this world, determined to rescue people in great danger of a shipwreck life. His presence and power are as unmistakable as a lighthouse piercing the darkness.

Paul put it this way: “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.” (Romans 1:20)

D.L. Moody once shared a story of a ship seeking safety on a stormy night outside Cleveland. The lighthouse shined, but the small “lower lights” at the harbor entrance—meant to guide ships through peril—had gone out. The ship missed the safe channel and crashed on the rocks. Moody’s message was simple: “The Master will take care of the great lighthouse. Let us keep the lower lights burning.”

Like those smaller lights, our daily choices—kindness, encouragement, sharing faith—can help guide someone home. It seems the closer someone gets to the shore—that point of decision or change—the more they need the steady direction of “lower lights” shining with hope.

God has put people in our lives so we can share love, offer guidance, and point them to the good news of His love for a world in need.

As the hymn “Let the Lower Lights Be Burning” says:

Let the lower lights be burning!
Send a gleam across the wave!
Some poor fainting, struggling seaman
You may rescue, you may save.

. . . and that’s what I know today.