Where I Last Saw the Light

When the old ache rises like a black tide,
and voices of doubt snarl in the dark,
when the path turns braille beneath your feet,
and every prayer feels like a door unlatched to storm—

turn back to the seam where mercy tore the night.
Find the hush where Scripture warmed your hands,
the lantern of one remembered promise,
the quiet chair where your heart first unclenched.

True Light never forgets to leave a breadcrumb trail.
Follow it—past the thorns of hurry,
past the husks of what-ifs and why-nows—
to the simple place where Jesus met you last.

There, let the storm spend itself
against His unhurried love.
You do not have to hold the sky together.
Lay down the armor of explanations,
the trembling map of self-rescue,
and lean like a child into His keeping.

Under His watch, the wolves lose their teeth.
Under His wing, the night learns to listen.
Even the smallest flame—kept by His breath—
writes dawn along the edges of your fear.

Rest here.
Not because you understand,
but because He is—
steady, unshadowed, near.
Stay until peace remembers your name,
until hope takes your hand again.

And when you rise,
carry that fixed Star in your chest—
so if darkness gathers once more,
you will know the way:
back to where you last saw the Light,
forward in the shelter of His care.

If this poem stirred something in your heart, remember that the deepest roots grow from God’s Word itself. “Thy word have I hid in mine heart, that I might not sin against thee” (Psalm 119:11). If you’d like simple, practical help in tucking Scripture into memory…

👉 Sign up for the free FAST Crash Course in Bible Memorization: http://fast.st/cc/21419