Introduction to the Chasing the Dawn Blog

Light has always fascinated me. Warming, bright lights like the sun; shy, shadowy lights like the moon and the stars; little twinkling strands adorning a Christmas tree; candlelight; lamplight; headlights; neon lights—they have always intrigued me. Light has lifted my spirits and caused me to see things differently than I would have in the darkness, which seems rather obvious until you realize nothing changed except a few more photons bouncing around in the surrounding space. How is light so powerful? Something weighing nothing, seemingly immaterial, and yet it can change everything about how I see the world and how I interpret reality. What was a looming figure in the dark becomes a useful and unintimidating coat rack in the light. Where I stumble in the darkness, the light sets my steps certain.

God created light on the first day of Creation. He spoke it into being, then separated it from the darkness. They are distinct, light and darkness—and I know enough of darkness to prefer light. Sadly, I often keep to the shadows, fearful and ashamed. Light exposes truth, and sometimes I know enough about the truth to be aware it isn’t comfortable. Sometimes my courage fails me, and I remain in the darkness, stumbling and afraid to be known.

This is my first blog post, so you might wonder why I open with light. First, as I mentioned, light has always affected me in ways other things cannot. Second, I like the imagery. The Bible contains many references to light, connected to blessing, goodness, and peace. Light in Scripture often alerts us to hope, faith, and love, and hope is what I hope to impart through the words I write, the way I live, and the way I affect others.

I prefer light because I have seen some darkness. I have seen twistedness, fear, and perversion of good and have struggled against despair and terror. Yet I have also tasted goodness and felt the comfort of Light’s healing rays. Emily Dickinson might suggest hope has wings, but I feel hope gives us wings. Once it perches in our souls, as Dickinson writes, it imparts to us something precious, a will to push forward through the pain. I start with light because this is a place of suffering and hope. We will see nightfall and sunrise, darkness enshrouding our path and illumination of our way.

To put it more plainly, I intend to write about life with mental illness and the intersection of its struggles with the hope of Jesus. I am no theologian, nor do I have a degree in Biblical studies. I only know what I have learned from the Bible, my community, and the Holy Spirit. Daily I battle the darkness of my mental illness—schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type—and daily I seek the hope I know I can only find in the Author of hope Himself. Daily I chase the dawn, and I would be delighted to have you share in this journey.