The Most Dangerous Darkness
“For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret. But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, ‘Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.’” Ephesians 5:12–14
We all have hidden places. A browser tab quickly closed. A grudge nursed in silence. A fantasy fed in the dark. A wound we pretend isn’t bleeding. A sin we label “private” because no one else gets hurt. We call it privacy. God calls it darkness.
The first thing Adam and Eve did after they sinned was hide. Every child of Adam has been hiding ever since. We believe the lie that if no one sees, no one is harmed. We think anonymity is safety. It is not safety. It is slow suffocation.
Science knows something about light and waking that Scripture has known all along. When real light hits the retina, it triggers a cascade: the brain suppresses melatonin, cortisol rises, heart rate quickens, body temperature climbs. Darkness lulls us to sleep; light literally wakes us up. Turn on a lamp in a pitch-black bedroom and the sleeper stirs whether they want to or not. The body cannot help but respond to light.
That is exactly what Paul is teaching. Secret sin is spiritual melatonin. It keeps us drowsy, half-alive, stumbling toward death in our sleep. Bring that same sin into the light of Christ and something biochemical in the soul happens: conviction surges, repentance stirs, the heart rate of faith quickens, and the sleeper wakes up.
But here is the part many of us miss: sometimes the light that wakes us is not only the light of Jesus shining directly on us in private prayer; sometimes it is the light of Jesus shining through another believer who loves us enough to hear the ugly truth and still stay in the room.
James 5:16 does not stutter: “Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.”
Anonymous sin feels safe because it keeps us asleep. Confessed sin—first to God, and then, when the Spirit nudges, to the brother or sister He has already prepared to carry it with you—brings the blinding, waking, transforming light of Christ into the exact place we feared would destroy us.
I have watched it happen again and again. A man finally tells his small group about the pornography he thought he had “under control.” A woman admits to a mentor the bitterness she has carried for decades. The moment the secret leaves the darkness and lands in the light of another grace-filled heart, the sleeper stirs. Tears come. Prayer rises. Healing begins. And the very thing they feared would end them becomes the dawn that ends the night.
Paul’s promise is staggering: “Anything that becomes visible is light.” Bring the hidden thing into the light of Christ—first in His presence, then, when the Spirit nudges, to the brother or sister He has already prepared to carry it with you—and two things happen at once:
The addiction you finally name becomes the testimony that sets captives free. The wound you finally voice becomes the scar that proves the Healer is real. The secret struggle becomes the story that convinces the next sleeper to wake up.
Jesus did not come to shame the sleeper. He came to shine on the sleeper. He is not waiting for you to get clean before you step into His light—alone or with a trusted friend. He is waiting for you to step into His light so you can get clean.
There is no darkness in you that His light—through His Word, His Spirit, and His people—cannot turn into dawn.
So wake up. Come out of the cave. Bring the hidden thing into the open. First to Him. Then, when the Spirit nudges, to the brother or sister He has already prepared to carry it with you.
The most dangerous darkness is the darkness that stays secret. The brightest morning is the morning that finally lets the light in.
Prayer:
Lord Jesus, You are the Light of the world, and You have made me light in You. I confess the places I have hidden, the sins I have kept anonymous, the shame I have worn like clothing. I bring them into Your light right now—and, by Your grace, into the light of the brother or sister You appoint. Expose what needs to be exposed. Transform what only You can transform. Turn my darkness into dawn so that others may see and wake up too. I choose to arise. Shine on me. Make me light. Amen.
We all have hidden places. A browser tab quickly closed. A grudge nursed in silence. A fantasy fed in the dark. A wound we pretend isn’t bleeding. A sin we label “private” because no one else gets hurt. We call it privacy. God calls it darkness.
The first thing Adam and Eve did after they sinned was hide. Every child of Adam has been hiding ever since. We believe the lie that if no one sees, no one is harmed. We think anonymity is safety. It is not safety. It is slow suffocation.
Science knows something about light and waking that Scripture has known all along. When real light hits the retina, it triggers a cascade: the brain suppresses melatonin, cortisol rises, heart rate quickens, body temperature climbs. Darkness lulls us to sleep; light literally wakes us up. Turn on a lamp in a pitch-black bedroom and the sleeper stirs whether they want to or not. The body cannot help but respond to light.
That is exactly what Paul is teaching. Secret sin is spiritual melatonin. It keeps us drowsy, half-alive, stumbling toward death in our sleep. Bring that same sin into the light of Christ and something biochemical in the soul happens: conviction surges, repentance stirs, the heart rate of faith quickens, and the sleeper wakes up.
But here is the part many of us miss: sometimes the light that wakes us is not only the light of Jesus shining directly on us in private prayer; sometimes it is the light of Jesus shining through another believer who loves us enough to hear the ugly truth and still stay in the room.
James 5:16 does not stutter: “Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.”
Anonymous sin feels safe because it keeps us asleep. Confessed sin—first to God, and then, when the Spirit nudges, to the brother or sister He has already prepared to carry it with you—brings the blinding, waking, transforming light of Christ into the exact place we feared would destroy us.
I have watched it happen again and again. A man finally tells his small group about the pornography he thought he had “under control.” A woman admits to a mentor the bitterness she has carried for decades. The moment the secret leaves the darkness and lands in the light of another grace-filled heart, the sleeper stirs. Tears come. Prayer rises. Healing begins. And the very thing they feared would end them becomes the dawn that ends the night.
Paul’s promise is staggering: “Anything that becomes visible is light.” Bring the hidden thing into the light of Christ—first in His presence, then, when the Spirit nudges, to the brother or sister He has already prepared to carry it with you—and two things happen at once:
- It is exposed for what it is—no more pretending, no more fig leaves.
- It is transformed by the very light that exposes it.
The addiction you finally name becomes the testimony that sets captives free. The wound you finally voice becomes the scar that proves the Healer is real. The secret struggle becomes the story that convinces the next sleeper to wake up.
Jesus did not come to shame the sleeper. He came to shine on the sleeper. He is not waiting for you to get clean before you step into His light—alone or with a trusted friend. He is waiting for you to step into His light so you can get clean.
There is no darkness in you that His light—through His Word, His Spirit, and His people—cannot turn into dawn.
So wake up. Come out of the cave. Bring the hidden thing into the open. First to Him. Then, when the Spirit nudges, to the brother or sister He has already prepared to carry it with you.
The most dangerous darkness is the darkness that stays secret. The brightest morning is the morning that finally lets the light in.
Prayer:
Lord Jesus, You are the Light of the world, and You have made me light in You. I confess the places I have hidden, the sins I have kept anonymous, the shame I have worn like clothing. I bring them into Your light right now—and, by Your grace, into the light of the brother or sister You appoint. Expose what needs to be exposed. Transform what only You can transform. Turn my darkness into dawn so that others may see and wake up too. I choose to arise. Shine on me. Make me light. Amen.