12.3 - Walking in Troubled Light
This morning I sat with John 12:27–36. Jesus says, “Now my soul is troubled.” Those words stop me. I can almost hear him whisper them, the way you say something to yourself under your breath, not really meant for others to catch.
And I think: me too. My soul knows trouble. The tension of wanting to trust, while my body resists pain, my mind resists confusion, and my spirit keeps tugging me toward meaning. It’s messy in here.
Thunder or Voice
Thunder or voice?
A sound rippled through the sky that day. Some said thunder. Others claimed an angel. Only Jesus named it as the voice of his Creator.
I wonder how many times I’ve brushed off what might have been a voice, dismissing it as nothing more than background noise. Karen and I sometimes laugh when Jimmy Buffett’s Come Monday plays at just the right moment - like on the radio when we were leaving our wedding. We’ve come to see it as a gentle sign — a nudge that we’re okay, we’re on the right road. Coincidence? Maybe. But I don’t think so.
👉 To my Grandchildren, and their children: pay attention to those small patterns — the songs, the numbers on a clock, the unlikely coincidences. Don’t be too quick to dismiss them. They may carry more meaning than you realize.
A Troubled Soul
I keep circling back to those words: “My soul is troubled.”
There’s relief in them. If even Jesus could say that aloud, then I don’t have to hide from my own unrest. Neuroscience says naming what we feel calms the storm inside. I think Jesus knew that long before science proved it. Sometimes the bravest thing is to simply say it: I am troubled.
“Troubled doesn’t mean broken. It means you’re awake to the moment.”
👉 Grandchildren: don’t be afraid of that word. Troubled doesn’t mean broken. It means you’re awake to the reality of the moment.
Puzzle Pieces
Trust the piece in your hand.
Life doesn’t hand us the box top of the puzzle. We only get a few pieces at a time. That drives my mind crazy because it craves certainty, closure, and the whole picture. But my spirit seems more patient. It’s content with just enough clarity to take the next step.
Later, in hindsight, the picture becomes obvious — the edges line up, the pieces fall into place. But in the middle of it? We’re just fumbling forward, piece by piece.
“Trust the piece in your hand — even if the box top is missing.”
👉 To my Grandchildren, and their children: I want you to know — not having the whole picture isn’t failure. It’s life. Trust the piece in your hand. Or, as I heard within me this morning, "you do you." And not only that, but "you do now.”
Questioning
I love that Jesus doesn’t pretend calm. He wonders out loud if there might be another way. That gives me permission to do the same — to question, to pause, to even argue with myself. Not in a self-pitying way — “Why me?” — but in a searching way: “What is this moment shaping in me?”
That feels honest. And maybe honesty is where clarity is born.
Sharing Vision
The people standing around couldn’t agree on what they’d heard. Thunder? Angel? Confusion spread.
That reminds me: not every vision is meant to be shared right away. Some things need to ripen in private. Some things are just between me and God.
👉 Grandchildren: hold your insights gently. Sometimes silence is the soil where understanding grows.
“Sometimes silence is the soil where understanding grows.”
Borrowed Light
Jesus warns his listeners: as long as I am here, you walk in my light. But when I am gone, what then?
That hits me hard. I’ve leaned on the faith of others many times. It helped for a while. But the day always comes when I have to light my own lamp.
Children of Light
Children of light.
And here’s the good news: we are not children of despair. We are children of light.
I think of Joseph Campbell saying that the hero’s task isn’t to escape fear but to walk with it. I think of John O’Donohue describing us as “apprentices to the threshold,” learning to see in half-light.
That’s where I want to live — walking honestly with my trouble, one puzzle piece at a time, carrying the small lamp I’ve been given.
👉 Grandchildren, and your children after you: walk in your own light. Don’t depend forever on mine or others. You will find your own. And when you do, you’ll carry our story forward in ways I can’t even imagine.
Key Takeaways
Connection: Jesus shows it’s okay to admit trouble out loud. Honesty connects us to others and to ourselves.
Belonging: We don’t need to silence our unrest to belong — even Jesus named his troubled soul.
Purpose: Life reveals itself piece by piece. Purpose grows in taking the next faithful step, not in seeing the whole.
Meaning: What matters most is not whether it’s thunder or voice, but what meaning awakens within us.
