This Little Light of Mine: Why It’s Time to Return to Love (Not Control)

I didn’t plan to sing.

I didn’t wake up with a message, an outline, or an intention to post anything at all.
I turned on my recorder and started singing This Little Light of Mine—not polished, not brave, not prepared.

That surprised me, because I don’t sing publicly. I haven’t done karaoke since I stopped drinking over twenty-three years ago. The thought of it still makes my heart race. So this wasn’t confidence. It wasn’t performative courage.

It was obedience to something quieter.

From the very first days many of us stepped into church, we were told we are light. We sang it as children—This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine—without fully understanding what we were being entrusted with.

Light isn’t dominance.
It isn’t control.
It isn’t obedience through fear.

Light is love in motion.

Over time, I watched how beautiful, life-giving teachings were filtered through human power. How institutions twisted spirit into compliance. How words meant to heal became tools to manipulate—demanding loyalty, devotion, silence.

I wrote about this years ago in Wholly Sober, in Chapter Two: Disconnection, a section called This Little Light of Mine. I shared how I disconnected from Jesus—not because of Him, but because of hypocrisy and judgment. I believed I would never be good enough for God. I watched people weaponize righteousness while withholding compassion.

Today, I’m seeing it again.

Not through pews and pulpits alone—but through cruelty justified as faith. Immigrants dehumanized. Families torn apart in legal systems they worked tirelessly to honor. Economic decisions that harm the most vulnerable, while leaders are elevated as moral authorities.

There is no light there.

I recently heard someone reference a verse that stopped me in my tracks:

“Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?”
—1 Corinthians 3:16

If God’s Spirit lives within us, then no man has authority to define God for us—unless we give it away.

What I see being modeled by many who claim Christianity today does not resemble the teachings of Jesus. Love your neighbor. Care for the sick. Feed the hungry. Welcome the stranger.

God is not cruelty.
God is not hate.
God is not fear.

God is love. God is light. And that light lives in you.

I’m not a preacher. I’m not a pastor. I’m not a Bible scholar. I don’t want followers. I want people to trust themselves enough to listen.

If this resonates—if something in you feels stirred—maybe it’s not me speaking at all. Maybe it’s the reminder you needed:

You already carry the truth.
You already hold the wisdom.
You already have the light.

It’s time to return to it.