THE SHADOW & THE FLAME

The old man bent under the weight of darkness. It was too late for him… or was it?

THE SHADOW & THE FLAME

The night stretched over the earth like a corpse-cloth. It was not absence of light—it was presence, alive and malignant. A decrepit darkness slithered through alleys, draped across kingdoms, coiled itself tightly inside human hearts. It moved with a will, a sovereignty of rot. The air trembled with its whispers—Eat. Take. Rule. Burn. Worship me.

And men obeyed.

Crowds danced in the shadows as though it were freedom, their chains hidden in laughter. Thrones rose on lies. Cities glowed with fires not of warmth, but of corruption. Even the stars seemed smothered, as though heaven itself recoiled.

Among this wasteland of souls stumbled an old man. His eyes were dull from the many years of this darkness; his body bent, but worse was his heart: blackened, deceitful, dripping poison into his own veins. He had tasted every fruit of earth—gold, flesh, power—and found it bitter ash. Yet he kept swallowing. He was hollow, yet chained. Alive, yet already dead.

Then the sky tore open in his life. He didn’t understand what was happening. It all began with a woman’s kind word…

It began as a flicker, as though a candle had been lit in the bowels of the abyss. The darkness hissed. It recoiled, but did not yield. Instead, it gathered itself in fury, a storm of shadow, curling higher and higher like a dragon uncoiling from its lair.

But the flame grew.

From flame to fire, from fire to figure—there He stood. The Son of Man, clothed not in shadow but in searing light, His eyes like burning suns, His hands scarred yet sovereign. The whole in His side still there as a testament. When He walked, the ground shook; when He spoke, the air split. Demons shrieked and scattered; the proud fell silent; the forgotten wept with hope. He was living and breathing and opened His arms in complete gesture of an offer to the old man to have life flow through him.

As He turned His gaze the darkness inside him writhed and screamed, clawing for dominion. The old man’s bones ached under its thrash. The whispers grew into roars: You are mine. Too filthy. Too ruined. Too late; and he had believed it for years, but did he now?

And then the Voice cut through them all.

“Follow me.”

It was command and invitation, thunder and whisper. The old man collapsed under the request. Chains rattled, shadows shrieked, sin itself clawed for his throat. And then—the Flame descended. Light pierced marrow and spirit, dividing, cleansing, consuming. The cavern of his heart cracked open, and the shadows screamed as they fled. He then remembered the verse about the Word of God being living and active. No trace of sinew was left in darkness. He now had the light of life bursting forth through him in full surrender.

For the first time in his long and wasted life, he saw and this time had finally chosen to believe.

The darkness was vast, yes—an empire of night stretching from horizon to horizon. But it was not sovereign. It was not omnipresent nor omnipotent. It trembled before the Light. And though nations were still shrouded, though kings still bowed to shadows, a new kingdom had dawned.

The Man lifted him with scarred hands. “You are not darkness anymore. You are light. Bear it. Shine.”

The old man rose, trembling, aflame. No longer hollow. No longer corpse. He bore within him a fire that could not be quenched, a spark of the eternal. He would be a light to the nations!

The heavens rumbled. The dragon of shadow roared across the earth, summoning storms, commanding legions, vowing vengeance. But the Light only burned brighter. The old man knew: one day the night would shatter, every star reborn in brilliance, every shadow drowned in everlasting flame.

Until then, he walked out into the ruins of the world—a torch in the hand of the Living Flame.

And the darkness trembled. The light of life rested in Him. In him there was no longer darkness.

Is there darkness in your life? The light of life will burn it away if you let it… turn your eyes upon Jesus.

Bring it all to the table.