There are moments in history when everything seems still—when the world holds its breath in silence. The night feels longer. The shadows stretch wider. The soul wonders if morning will come.
This is where resurrection begins.
On the first day of the week, while it was yet dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb.
John 20:1
"The first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, when it was yet dark, unto the sepulchre..."
Not in sunlight. Not in triumph. She came with grief. She came with love. She came in the shadows.
But something had already happened.
The stone was rolled away. The silence was broken. The Son had risen. Not in the light of dawn, but in the depth of night. Before the sun rose, the Son of God stood alive.
The first light of new creation came—again—not from the sky, but from God.
Genesis 1:2–3
"And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light."
He spoke into the void, and life began.
But what kind of light was this? The sun and moon weren’t created until day four.
It was not sunlight. It was the first revealing of divine presence—light proceeding from the Word of God Himself.
John 1:1–5
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life; and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not."
Before the manger, before the tomb, before time itself—Jesus was.
He is the eternal Word. Through Him, the Father spoke everything into being. He is the Light that shines in darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.
So when God said, "Let there be light," He was revealing the very One through whom all things would be made.
And that same voice still speaks.
He speaks now—not just to the heavens, but to the human heart. To those who have grown weary. To those standing in shadows. To those who wonder if morning will come. And His voice still carries the power to create, to awaken, to restore.
Genesis 1:3
"And God said, Let there be light: and there was light."
Not because we deserve it. Not because we’ve earned it. But because He is good, and His mercy endures forever.
Psalm 136:1
"O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever."
We live in a world of many lights, but few that heal. Many voices, but few that speak peace. But this voice—the voice that created the world and walked out of the grave—is still calling.
- Let there be light—in your questions, in your crisis, in your calling.
- Let there be light—in the places you’ve given up on.
- Let there be light—not because all is clear, but because He is near.
Psalm 34:18
"The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit."
This is not fiction. This is not metaphor. This is the rhythm of God.
Genesis 1:5
"And the evening and the morning were the first day."
Evening first. Then morning. Darkness, then light.
Creation tells the story. The resurrection confirms it.
John 1:5
"And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not."
So wherever you are, whisper it back to Him. Even now. Let there be light.
It was still dark—when He rose.
Let there be light. And let it begin in you.