The first words. Effortless. Simple. Spoken reality. The divine invitation to order.
“And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.” (Genesis 1 v 3-5)
Light wasn’t first. Darkness was. Yet before any of creation came into being God enabled the wonder to be recognised; before the beauty, God established the ability to appreciate it. Light makes relationship possible. Without it, there is no seeing, no knowing, no connection. Before anything else could matter, there had to be the ability to witness that it mattered at all.
Light was evaluated. God didn’t simply create and move on. He paused. He considered. He declared it good; not merely functional, not just useful, but inherently valuable. This first assessment set a pattern: things wouldn’t be judged merely by their usefulness, but by their inherent value. Goodness was woven into the fabric of existence from the very beginning.
Light divided the darkness. Here begins one of the Bible’s most persistent themes: the separation that brings meaning. Where there was only formless void, now there is distinction. Order emerges from chaos. Day and night come into being, not as enemies but as partners in rhythm. Evening and morning dance together, marking the first rhythm of time, the heartbeat by which life would move forward.
And so in the very beginning, before time as we know it, something profound was woven into existence that echoes through every age, even today as you read this: our need for meaning, the value of order and our ability to recognise what is good.
Here is the invitation: to step into order and rhythm from the emptiness and chaos of life; to understand we are called to walk in the light, in the day; and to embrace the possibility that we can discern what is truly good, for we will be able to see.

