Posted on October 29, 2025

There are moments in our walk with God when separate thoughts begin tugging at the same thread—quietly, steadily, almost as if the Spirit is drawing us back to a truth we once met, but are now ready to experience on a deeper level. My journey with John 3:19–21 has come to me in stages, each encounter arriving at a moment when God was illuminating something in me that I could no longer ignore.

My first encounter with this passage was several years ago, in the middle of a personal conflict that left me frustrated and emotionally raw. It felt as though someone else’s behavior was consistently overlooked, while mine lived under a microscope. In that moment, I felt unseen and unjustly scrutinized. But as I sat with God, He led me to “This is the judgment: the light has come into the world” (John 3:19). The passage confronted me—not about the other person, but about me. It was the first time I saw that the Light wasn’t about proving who was right or wrong; it was revealing where I was hiding, performing, or reacting from woundedness. That moment marked a shift. It set me on a journey of developing emotional intelligence as a dimension of faith integration—recognizing that spiritual maturity required emotional honesty.

Years passed, and life moved forward, but the Spirit brought this same passage back to me earlier this month. This time the context was different. I wasn’t in relational conflict—I was shrinking back professionally. I was retreating from visibility, influence, and voice because stepping forward felt exposing. Once again, Jesus’ words came: “Everyone who does what is true comes to the light…” (John 3:21). I realized I wasn’t hiding sin—I was hiding me. I was avoiding the Light because I feared being seen, misjudged, or misunderstood. And yet, the invitation was the same: come into the Light, not to prove anything, but to let it be seen that what comes from my life is God’s doing, not mine. The Light wasn’t calling me out—it was calling me forward.

Then came today, and the passage returned once more—this time, not as correction, but as invitation to integration. A simple text exchange opened a deeper encounter, and suddenly, the Spirit began weaving together three things I had been pondering: the weight of the word divisive, Jesus’ call to bring what is hidden into the light, and the way we behave emotions we cannot yet articulate. I began to see that God was not teaching me three separate lessons; He was completing one.

I reflected on how the word divisive comes from a root meaning “to divide, separate, or cut apart.” For so long, I feared being labeled divisive—especially when telling the truth disrupted a false peace. I thought of how often truth-tellers are accused of creating the very division they are simply revealing. But Scripture shows us that not all division is destructive. There is a holy separation—God dividing light from darkness, truth from deception, the real from the performed. Sometimes exposure isn’t the damage; the hiding is.

As I held this, the Spirit brought another truth to the surface: long before truth reaches the lips, it shows up in the body. I realized I had lived many seasons where my body spoke the truth my voice could not yet say—through withdrawal, overfunctioning, silence, defensiveness, or pretending I was “fine.” Emotion always seeks expression. “The Spirit intercedes… with groanings too deep for words” (Romans 8:26). Our bodies often pray before our mouths do.

And suddenly, I understood what God was stitching together: when truth—emotional or spiritual—is concealed in darkness, it fractures us internally. The lie becomes the real division. Jesus doesn’t expose to shame us—He exposes to heal us. Exposure is not the rupture; exposure is the beginning of wholeness. “Behold, You delight in truth in the inward being…” (Psalm 51:6). God desires congruence inside of us, not image maintenance.

As I traced my three encounters with John 3:19–21—2021, mid-October 2025, and today—I saw the progression: the first encounter awakened me to truth, the second confronted my shrinking, and this third is integrating me. God is not simply calling me to step into the Light—He is forming me into someone who can live there.

This is the invitation now: to live with nothing hidden—not my motives, not my wounds, not my emotions, not my calling. Not the parts of me that are polished, nor the parts still being sanctified. “Search me, O God… and lead me in the way everlasting” (Psalm 139:23–24). To come into the Light is to let God unite the fractured parts of me—my thoughts, feelings, identity, and actions—so that what is seen in my life reflects His work, not my performance.

I no longer want to call truth “divisive” when it is actually the pathway to freedom. I no longer want to silence the emotional truth that God is trying to heal. I no longer want to hide in shadows that masquerade as humility or peace. I want to come into the Light—not to prove I am good, but so that whatever goodness is visible makes it unmistakably clear that God did it.

Because every time the Light returns to the same Scripture, it is not repeating—it is deepening.

And in His Light, I am becoming whole.

Conclusion

May we be courageous enough to step into the Light, trusting that God meets us there with healing, not shame. As we allow Him to integrate our inner world, we discover a freedom that hiding could never offer. My prayer is that you, too, would let His Light call you into wholeness.

At The Ezer Roots Collective , I believe that the journey into the Light is one we’re not meant to walk alone. If you sense God inviting you into deeper wholeness and want a safe space to explore that with guidance, I offer Spiritual Formation via a Quick Care Session —a gentle, supportive place to process, reflect, and grow.

If you’d like to take a next step, reach out. You can email [email protected] to learn more. Together, we can nurture growth, clarity, and spiritual alignment—so you can walk more fully in the Light that is calling you.