"When we point the finger at others... we have only stepped further away from love and walked into darkness."

When Our Light Rises in the Darkness
Yesterday I wrote about the words of Isaiah:
‘If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk …
then your light will rise in the darkness.’
— Isaiah 58:9–10
Today, I find myself returning to that verse from yesterday; some verses do not leave us quickly. They sit quietly in the soul, waiting for us to come back to them. Isaiah’s words are like that. They are not only beautiful and searching, they ask something of us.
The words speak of doing away with oppression, with the pointing finger, and with malicious talk. These are not small matters. They are the everyday ways in which darkness can enter human life. A harsh word, a cruel accusation, a bitter judgement, a careless piece of gossip — such things may seem light on the tongue, but they can weigh heavily on another person’s heart.
Malicious speech can wound deeply. I have seen it divide friends, poison families, weaken communities, and darken the spirit of the one who speaks it. When we point the finger at others, we may feel for a moment that we have lifted ourselves higher, but in truth we have only stepped further away from love and walked into darkness. And continuing as a courier of gloom, we show to the world how unhappy we are.
Isaiah shows us another way. He tells us that when we turn away from such things, when we refuse to take part in cruel speech, something holy begins to happen within us. God says, ‘then your light will rise in the darkness.’
What a promise that is.
This is not merely the happiness of a good mood or an easy day. It is something deeper. It is a happiness that comes from God. It is the quiet joy of a clean conscience. It is the peace of knowing that our words have not been used as weapons. It is the warmth that comes when we choose mercy instead of judgement, kindness instead of accusation, and silence instead of harm.
There is a kind of darkness that comes from living with bitterness. It can creep into the mind and settle in the heart. But when we give up malicious speech, we make room for the light of God. We become less burdened by resentment. We are no longer feeding the shadows. We begin to see others more gently, and perhaps we begin to see ourselves more truthfully too.
The Creator reveals a beautiful truth: our light rises when our speech is healed.
This does not mean we ignore wrong or pretend that evil does not exist. It means we do not become servents of cruelty. It means we do not delight in tearing others down. It means our words are guided by love, justice, humility, and grace.
In this world filled with accusation, mockery, and suspicion, choosing not to speak maliciously is a quiet act of faith. It is a way of saying, ‘Lord, let my tongue belong to You. Let my words bring light, not darkness.’
And perhaps this is where true happiness begins. Not in winning arguments. Not in exposing the faults of others. Not in being the loudest voice in the room in order to feed our own low self esteam. But in walking humbly with God, speaking with kindness, and refusing to add more darkness to the world.
Then, as Isaiah says, our light will rise in the darkness.
And that light is not our own achievement. It is a gift from God.
