Go Light Your World

By Gloria Nesloney

I hear a knock on the door. The cold hollow metal framed interior door opens. Two women dressed in scrubs come into my room. “Ms. Gloria, it’s time to take your vitals. Put this under your tongue. Let me check your pulse and blood pressure. I’m going to draw blood from this arm today. Is that ok? How are you feeling? Here are your meds. Can I get you anything else?” With my eyes peering through slits to focus on answering questions the nurses, I answer with a shallow mumble, “ok.” My head raises just enough to take the medication with a small dixie cup of water. And to sleep again I go. Intermittently, I would vomit and leave my bed soiled and someone was there to help clean it up. Those were the days the hospital seemed to be the place I was able to get some rest from the things of the ugly world I was living in 1993.

Life was already planned out for me with a dead end at the age of nineteen. My future was dim. I was supposed to be productive and live the best days fully like all of my career-oriented single peers. Unable to recover from physical and emotional trauma kept me in a vortex that swallowed me deeper into depression. With no dream, no hope, and no vision for anything past my situation, I didn’t have the desire to live. My frustration grew as I lay in bed unable to move, unable to clean myself, but my mind and my heart raced, and my body was exhausted from trying.

When I was able to get up from bed, I went to the window and hauled the IV and monitor around. As I stared out, I was able to see headlights from cars driving into the parking lot. I saw the business building lights that were on the next street. I looked at the traffic zooming from the freeway in the distance. I looked up and could see stars shining in the clear night sky. My attention was brought back to the cars in the parking lot where a young girl was being carried into the hospital by a man that I could only assume was her father. My mind began to take me back to my younger years when I too was carried by my father into a hospital. Why would I ever want to hurt myself knowing I had a family who loved me?

After I was released from the hospital, I had to face life again by myself. It didn’t seem to change since I had to go back to the same dark places, meet with the same hurtful people, and have the same dreadful job that caused me such pain. I didn’t know what else to do. I was stuck. But what was keeping me there? It wasn’t until I began seeking help for my situation that I was able to understand that it wasn’t about where I was, who was around me, or what kind of job I was in, but rather that I was the common denominator in my own unhappiness.

Shame has a way of creeping into a young person. Sometimes it is through comparison of what one should be doing at a certain age. At most for me, it was about the way I was mishandled and not being able to speak my truth. Shame didn’t carry me, I carried it. It allowed me to wallow in self-pity, self-rejection, and self-hate. Shame spoke loud and clear of how I was not accepted, how I had to do more, do less, be more, be less, be extreme or be catatonic. Shame said things like, “you’re a failure because you couldn’t handle the hard times.” “No one will listen to you.” “You don’t have anything of value.” “Even if you did speak your truth, no one would believe you.” “You should just end it all” Shame took over. I shut down and gave into the lies it repeated to me.

During the days of my recovery, when I looked out the window of the hospital, I was reminded of my life beyond the walls of the coldness that had grown in my heart. It reminded me that everyone else was carrying on with life with or without me in it. It reminded me that people still went to work, had to travel, and had places to go. I am the one who put myself in my situation. I was going to have to figure out how to get out of it, or at least find a way to live through it. It wasn’t a quick transition, but my life changed once I made up my mind to run away from the negativity of what happened to me and run fearlessly into the truth of what happened and how I was going to overcome it. I learned how to take the shame and use it as my tool to help others overcome the feelings of hopelessness, unworthiness, and lies that people listen to. I became unstoppable. Enough was enough.

During the two and a half years of going through recovery, I fought the voices in my head, that familiar evil spirit that told me my life was worthless. I had nothing to fight back with until one day in 1995, I was listening to a song from Kathy Troccoli called “Go Light Your World.” I heard the song for the first time while tears ran down my face. I asked myself, “how could I go light my world if my current world was only dark and cold?” That’s when I felt a little spark in the dark hit my heart. It was like a match struck the matchbox ignited and flickering trying to find its way to its destination. I felt Holy Spirit come into my heart.

I heard another voice that day. It didn’t sound like my voice. It definitely wasn’t the voice of shame. It was the voice of truth. The voice said, “I know what you have been through, I went through it with you.” “I’ll take care of you from here if you want me to.” See, I tried doing my life my own way. I was robbed of my innocence and lied to for so long. I needed things to change if I was going to live. I said, “Yes!” A week later I gave my heart to Jesus in 1995.

This began my journey to bring light into the world for those who are lost, feel like they are failures, have given up on life, and feel like they have lost hope. In this season of newness for my soul and walk in Christ, it became my joy to share the good news everywhere I went. It wasn’t easy, but who was going to try to stop me? I felt like a racehorse ready to run all the way to the finish line. I was on a mission to bring light to a dark world.

My encounters with individuals who lost hope were living under bridges of major cities. They didn’t start out this way. Some were family men who lost their identity working a dead-end job. Others were skilled and were best in tee shirts and blue jean attire and didn’t fit into the business model of suits and ties. Sometimes they would find rest at the bus stops for shade or water. I found my passion when I would take time to sit with those who were distraught. I would spend hours listening to the broken-hearted. In my best efforts to shine light, I knew I couldn’t meet the needs of all these individuals. What they needed was not just someone to exchange stories with. I was only able to present the flickering light I had, but they needed more than what I had to offer. They needed an encounter with Jesus and His resources.

While doing street ministry, I met up with a homeless man named Steve. He was not in his right mind, probably from fatigue from not having an adequate meal. He had smelled of vomit and feces. His clothes were dingy and tattered. His face was scruffy from being untrimmed, unclean, and unkempt. He had sores, scabs, and bites on his arms and legs. His shoes were worn and taped to the sole. As I approached Steve who was tall and slender, I could tell he was weak. With what energy he did have, his eyes looked up at mine and we connected. It was not long after that Steve and I was having a meal together as I shared my lunch with him. I would do it for anyone in my family or friends and I sat and talked with him. Steve began to tell me his story of how he ended up on the streets.

Steve admitted he was not on the best terms with his family because of some terrible decisions he made. I kept my composure to be attentive to listen to him as he began to speak of his anger towards people and how he felt abandoned because of his choices in life. He was sure to tell me how he didn’t trust anyone and had been on the streets where he felt safer than with people who would reject him from the facilities that were made available to him for shelter and food. He mentioned how he gave up on life a couple of times and attempted suicide. He didn’t know that I could relate. I kept silent to let him share.

I have learned that allowing someone to speak their truth is the start of healing from shame, fear, and resentment. As I was finishing my meal and getting ready to leave, Steve thanked me for listening. It wasn’t the most comfortable situation I have ever been in but I knew at that moment Steve’s life was going to change if he wanted it. I would never suggest people do what I did that day, but I knew in my heart where Steve was coming from and I sensed his honesty. Before I left, I asked Steve if he knew Jesus loved him.

All of a sudden he became irate. He peered down at me because of his height and pointed into my face and started yelling at me. “You don’t understand, Lady, Jesus can’t love me. I’m a sinner.” Somehow I wasn’t afraid, though I should have been. Instead, I calmly put my hand on his chest and with the most sincere way I could muster, a boldness and peace came over me as I told Steve, “It’s you who doesn’t understand the love of Jesus, Steve, He loves you deeply.” I removed my hand and he began to cry and ask, “You really think so? Can He love me like my Momma?” I said, “I know so. And Yes, Jesus loves you more than your Momma ever could.”

The escalated moment came to a time of silence where I could see that Steve was pondering deeply. He said, “I haven’t seen my Momma in a long time, I would like to tell her I’m sorry for not being a great son.” It was then I saw the spark of light in Steve’s eyes. He was ignited with hope again. I got him the necessary toiletries to clean up. I paid for him to stay in a motel and gave him some change to get on a bus to go visit his Mom. I trusted that the Lord was going to take care of Steve, I just had to do my part to show him love and care for his basic needs as the Lord would provide the rest of Steve’s needs.

That day, I didn’t see a homeless man, I saw my brother, my father, my uncle, my friend, a Mom’s son, and a lost little boy stuck in a cycle of a broken system. Whether through his own fault or because of the choices he made, that was not my business. My business was to shine the light. A couple of months passed, and I was helping at a church food pantry where I saw Steve and his Mom. He recognized me, I did not recognize him. He was well-dressed, clean, groomed, and smiling. He shared with his Mom the time I spent time with him and helped him in his darkest hour. He and his Mom were attending church and have rekindled their relationship. This was the beginning of my ministry Light For Every Nation.

Though I am not able to help all who are in need, I do what I can with what I have. The good news is that I’m unstoppable. I have learned that my responsibility to help those in need is not to just provide money. The lack of finances is not the true issue behind homelessness or destructive lifestyles. The basic needs of humanity are faith, hope, and love. Everything else is a byproduct. I have grown to understand that no amount of money was going to get me out of my rut. I needed faith to see beyond the walls I built around my hardened heart. I needed hope to dream of a better future than where I had landed myself in the hospital so many times. Most of all I needed the light of love to guide me out of the darkness. Now I do the same for everyone I meet.

What does it take to help someone? During my time recovering from a wounded soul, someone listened to me as I poured my heart out about the injustices that happened to me. Someone took time to clean up my messes to show me dignity. Someone shared their light with me in my time of need. Shame no longer had its grip on me. Someone helped carry me when times were difficult. I was able to speak my truth which helped me have compassion for others to share their truth. It doesn’t cost a dime to be there for someone, but it does cost time to care. I choose to go light my world. Will you? Don’t forget that no one can stop you from shining your light.

What are some hard times you have been through?

How does your past help you help others find hope?

List the different free ways you can go light your world.

For once you were full of darkness, but now you have light from the Lord. So live as people of light! For this light within you produces only what is good and right and true.

Ephesians 5:8 NLT

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