We were visiting the Acropolis in Athens with a young relative. Just before the final climb to the famous Parthenon, we paused for a drink and turned around to find the eleven-year-old sitting on a stone, staring gloomily at the ground. We were amazed, as she had been dancing with excitement about the adventure for weeks. I asked her what was the matter, and with a heavy heart she sighed, "I don't know why people come all this way to see the Parthenon and then leave trash all over the place!"

Her eyes were indeed firmly fixed on the ground and the trash. She had anticipated this moment for so long, reading and learning all she could about Greece and its history, myths, and legends, but her mental pictures hadn't included soda cans and fast-food wrappers! So I asked her to look up and tell me what she was going to see when she had climbed to the top. "The Parthenon!" was the joyful answer. "Well, you've come all this way, too, and now you can make a choice: what have you come here to see—the trash or the Parthenon?" She didn't need a second reminder! She was off, and we had a job to keep up with the bright pink shirt, bobbing way ahead of us as she celebrated her moment of discovery.

It's true that what we experience is determined by our circle of vision. In fact, two people can find themselves in identical situations and have entirely different experiences—as this little verse I recall indicates:

But sometimes the loving reminder "Look up!" isn't enough. The problems of the world can seem so overwhelming that they pile in and weigh on the heart like an intolerable burden from which there is no escape. This is when the "no way out" thoughts can come knocking, suggesting self-destruction as the only means of release. And built right into their sales talk is this persistent theme with its many variations: "No one loves me!" "Why would anyone want to love me?" "It's not safe to love—people let you down." "I don't even know how to love." Such thoughts can even spiral down into full-blown self-hatred.

To those wandering in the turmoil and confusion of thoughts such as these, life seems dark, without a glimmer of hope. Without love, the light seems to go out of life, and it hardly seems worth living. But whether or not we yet know it, there's something within each one of us that can never be put out—it's a little bit like those candles that relight every time you blow them out. The spark within us that can never be put out is the divine spark. This spark is our spirituality responding to our creator, saying "Yes!" to Life. We may not have learned to recognize it yet, but it's there witnessing to the fact that we are held fast to life by God, who is Life, even when the starless night of doubt is saying, "There's nothing to live for—all I can see is trash."

Light really is something! You can't destroy it, imprison it in anything, cut it off from its source, inject darkness into it, or blow it out. It's one of the best symbols we have for exploring what would otherwise be a mystery—the nature of Love. The word Love here doesn't mean sensuous love, or even the love of one person for another; it's more than that It's divine Love, the love of God Himself, who is Love. And divine Love really is something! It can't be destroyed, or imprisoned in anything; it can never stop being expressed; it can never know mental darkness, or lovelessness, and it can never be blown away.

Even for those who feel they have never known God or don't know how to love Him, the fact is that God, divine Love, knows them. But not as physical beings. Rather, God knows us as the very expression of Himself. Divine Love is Life, without beginning or ending. And this remarkable fact is a living presence active in human consciousness even when despair says there's nothing to live for. Despair isn't alive—there's not one live thing about it. But the truth about each of us—that we are God's beloved children—is alive and well right this very minute.

Right now, the quiet voice of your divine nature is saying "Look up! Choose light!" Even the smallest gesture of love is like striking a match in darkness. You can then see enough to light a candle, and as you walk forward you will find you are always standing at the center of a circle of light. With the candle you can light a torch, and that torch will keep blazing until you come into the full sunlight. But in this little parable the most important thing is the first action—striking the match.

Many years ago a friend of mine found herself flat on her back in bed, unable to move. She was isolated and far from home, and she later told me she was feeling absolutely cut off from God and from any evidence of love. All movement caused intense pain, and mental darkness seemed to have engulfed her desire to live. Her thoughts, the bedroom, and the entire house were in complete disarray. But in this paralyzing despair came one persistent little thought: "Get up and make this bed as beautifully as you possibly can, to the glory of God!"

At first it seemed so impossible that she ignored the thought, but as she lay there she couldn't help hearing it again. Finally she listened and recognized that it was the love of God alive in her consciousness, requiring her to express Him. Her resolve began to grow. Eventually she managed to overcome the great hump of inertia and inched her way out of bed. And, although in great pain, she began slowly to crawl around straightening the sheets and putting all the bedclothes in order. She persevered for two and a half hours until there was not a wrinkle on the bed!

During this time her thought was beginning to move in accord with the beauty and order—which are attributes of divine Love—that she was expressing. And when she had finished, the pain had lessened considerably. Then the thought came to continue the work by straightening up the whole bedroom. As the joy of accomplishment filled her, her body began to move with natural freedom. She was able to go on and restore order to the whole house, by which time she was completely healed and no longer feeling alone. She now knew that divine Love was everywhere, always, and that she could never fall out of love with life, because God was her Life. She went on to live a life full of love and extensive service to others. You might say she discovered the truth of these lines from a poem by Mary Baker Eddy: "Fed by Thy love divine we live, / For Love alone is Life" (Poems, p. 7).

The Christ—the voice of Truth and Love—that roused my friend from despair is speaking to each of us today, lighting up dark places with the flame of divine Love, showing us our spiritual nature as the children of God, and restoring the dignity and worth that are natural to each one of us.

With this restoration comes the ability to feel again—to feel lovable, loving, lovely, and loved. Then there's not even a choice to be made, only the joyful conviction that rings out in the Bible's words "I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord" (Ps. 118:17).