Let Your Light So Shine

There’s a verse I’ve carried with me for as long as I can remember: “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16)

It’s simple. Direct. But it holds a kind of quiet weight — because light, by its nature, isn’t meant to be hidden.

When I began writing By the Light of the Bluff, that verse kept returning to me. At first, it was just a natural fit — a lighthouse story, after all, is about light. But as the chapters unfolded, I realized the connection ran deeper. In the book, light is more than a beacon for ships. It’s courage. It’s integrity. It’s the willingness to stand when the world would rather you fade into the dark.

For Jesse Whitmore, “letting her light shine” doesn’t come easily. She arrives in Saint Simons trying to be unseen. She carries her past like an anchor. But over time, the island — and the people she meets — begin to teach her that light isn’t always loud or blazing. Sometimes it’s the steady flame that refuses to go out.

And for me, that’s the heart of this verse. It’s not about perfection. It’s about presence. It’s about choosing, day after day, to stand in the place you’ve been given and shine with whatever light you have — no matter how small it feels.

Lighthouses aren’t built to shine for themselves. They shine so that others can find their way.

And in life, as in the story, that kind of light might be the most powerful of all.