If you live in the Midwest, you know that winter is a season of gray skies, biting cold, and early darkness. In central Ohio, which I call home, the heart of winter brings sunsets as early as five p.m., temperatures lingering around a brisk twenty-nine degrees, and thick clouds covering the sky nearly seventy percent of the time, leaving you to wonder if the sun has vanished altogether. 

Midwestern winters can make my heart feel heavy, weighed down by parking lot slush and barren fields—but then, I see it: a house decked with Christmas lights. As the days get shorter and the darkness grows deeper, whole neighborhoods join in the joyful display. 

Light in the darkness. 
Beauty in the barren. 

In the heart of a Midwestern winter, where dreariness seems to reign, these strands of lights shine as a beacon of something greater, something eternal. 

Gloomy Clouds and Death’s Dark Shadow

It doesn’t take looking out the window to see the darkness of the world around us. War, sickness, injustice, and political unrest are the headlines we see on every front page and with every social media scroll. The throes of sin have landed us in desperate, dark, difficult times. 

The brokenness of the world isn’t just external; it resides in every human heart. When we see God’s laws trampled, when we witness injustice, or when we experience the pain of loss, we long for God’s perfect rule. As creation groans under the curse, our hearts grieve and long for something better. And that’s not wrong. 

Scripture teaches us to lament. Ecclesiastes 3:4 says that there is a time for mourning, and in His loving kindness, God Himself invites us to bring our sorrows to Him (Matt. 11:28). 

But even as we mourn, we do so with hope. As God’s people, our grief is set against the backdrop of a promise: the darkness, no matter how deep, is not final. The shadows are temporary; the Light has already dawned.

Dawn Has Come

O come, Thou Dayspring, come and cheer,
our spirits by Thine advent here;
disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
and death’s dark shadows put to flight. 

The words of the old carol “O Come, O Come Emmanuel” are more than lyrics to a popular Christmas hymn. They’re a call to hope. They point us to a glorious reality: the coming of Christ dispels the darkness. The word “Dayspring” in Greek is the word anatole. It’s a word that is usually translated as “the east” or “sunrise.” In essence, this line refers to Christ’s coming as the appearance of the light that drives out the darkness.1

The birth of Jesus is not merely a sentimental tale for the Christmas season. It marks the pivotal moment in history when light began to dawn over the deepest darkness. Jesus Himself declared, “I am the light of the world. Anyone who follows me will never walk in the darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8:12). This was no flicker or temporary glow, but a blazing fire that had already conquered the power of sin and death.

John’s Gospel declares “that light shines in the darkness, and yet the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:5). Christ, the Light of the World, has already come, piercing through the darkness of sin and death. His incarnation was the breaking in of God’s light into our dark and weary world, fulfilling Isaiah’s prophecy: “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; a light has dawned on those living in the land of darkness” (Isa. 9:2).

Through the light, not only do we receive the hope of future glory, but our present reality is transformed. Even in the midst of life’s trials, Christ’s light shines into our darkness, reminding us that our suffering is not without purpose. We are not abandoned in the darkness; we are upheld by the sovereign grace of God, who is working all things together for our good.

Christ has come, and that means that the gloomy clouds of night and death’s dark shadows are just that—clouds and shadows. They may seem oppressive, but they cannot withstand the brilliance of His light. One day, the clouds will be driven away entirely, and the shadows will vanish forever. This is the hope we cling to: not only that the light of Christ has already dawned, but that the day of His eternal reign is drawing near.

Looking toward Eternal Light

In Revelation 21, we are invited to gaze at our glorious hope, to see the culmination of God’s redemptive work: a new heaven and a new earth where God dwells with His people. 

The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, because the glory of God illuminates it, and its lamp is the Lamb. (Revelation 21:23). 

No night, no shadows, no death. The light of Christ will be the sole illumination, and His glory will shine over every corner of the renewed creation.

This year as you adorn your home with festive lights and string them around your Christmas tree, may they serve as a reminder that Christ, the Light of the World, has come and will come again. When you feel the dread of the darkness around you, remember that the Dayspring has dawned and the shadows will soon be turned to light.

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1 Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth, “Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall Come,” Revive Our Hearts, December 17, 2021, https://www.reviveourhearts.com/podcast/revive-our-hearts/rejoice-emmanuel-shall-come/.