When Power Meets the Mirror
To reckon with darkness, we must be willing to confront it, not only when it stands plainly before us, but when it hides in the shadows of our comfort and complacency.
We often face darkness only when it is external, visible, and safely distant.
But true reckoning demands more.
Darkness must be met face to face.
For when light truly arrives, darkness cannot remain, it must flee.
Still, when darkness looms, it can feel all consuming.
Its presence carries a weight, a fragrance strong enough to permeate every space it enters.
Yet I am familiar with the nature of light.
When light enters a room, it does not only confront the obvious shadows.
It exposes the deeper darkness, the kind that lingers quietly,
the kind we would rather not name,
the kind that waits within us.
This raises a harder question:
What are we to do with power when authority is placed in our hands?
What if the mirror reveals a soul capable of abusing that authority?
What if change is not as simple as gaining power to do what we believe is good?
What if power itself alters us , reaching beyond action into desire, instinct, appetite?
What if the truest confrontation with darkness is not what looms outside us,
but what awakens within us once power is given?
So let us be a people who lament.
Let us lament when we stand before the mirror
and recognize the person staring back.
Let us lament the darkness when it rises around us—
and when it reveals itself within us.
Let lament dismantle the hidden chests buried deep in our hearts,
where fear, pride, and unexamined desire are stored away.
For only what is uncovered can be healed.
Only what is named can be redeemed.
And in that unveiling, may we witness resurrection:
truth rising from concealment,
justice emerging from silence,
and righteousness stepping forward into the light.
Selah,
Grace
