Fire of the...What?

Hello Readers!

You must be wondering— what did I just click? "Fire of the Lighthouse"? Why such a name?
If this you, fear not—I still ask myself that question too! But, the good news is: I think I know the answer now, and that's what this post is all about.

But first, allow me to introduce myself.


My name is Katai Mutale, and I am a storyteller because I am an avid story-reader.

I grew up as an introvert with a strong reading culture. Books were my escape from a reality I often did not like; they were my doorway into an entire universe of possibility, creativity, wisdom, and wonder. I would spend my days buried in books, befriending the librarian because she (all the librarians I knew were female) had the master key to my happy place.

There was always something about stories that captivated me. I loved how an author would skillfully persuade the reader to live in a world or time they're not used to so that they can embrace an experience they're often not familiar with in order to learn a lesson they'll later identify as their own. It was a genius mode of persuasion and influence, and I greatly admired it.

Little did I know that I was being trained to become one of them.

Years later, my high school English language teacher told me that I was a "writer, but [I] needed to be serious." Her gentle rebuke not only awakened the writer in me but, also, the storyteller in me.

I began to critically observe my environments and look for creative ways to tell a story. I would silently weave in a truth that the readers will subtly embrace as their own. I would use metaphors, complex characters, and plots and amazing settings to subtly (or explicitly) play with a reader's stereotype and introduce a value I would love them to walk away with.

When I became actively engaged in my faith, I realized that Jesus did the same thing.

Jesus was a vivid storyteller. He skillfully used mind-boggling parables and metaphors to conceal a difficult-to-grasp truth for those hungry to learn. He did this so well that, to this day, we are still unpacking His stories and uncovering the truth that is helping us find wisdom, guidance, and insight.

A couple years back, I was advised to start a blog to hone this passion and ability. And, when brainstorming on its purpose, I discovered brilliant-yet-strange title: Fire of the Lighthouse.

A lighthouse notifies ships that land is nearby because, in most storms, the land is not easily seen.

In the olden days, lighthouses used fire as their source of illumination. The amazing part about these lighthouses is that they were a sign of hope; a sign that sailors won't wreck in the storm they're facing because they can rest where the lighthouse stands.

I aspire for this blog to be a lighthouse—a structure that stands tall in the midst of a storm, shining God's light to tell the brave sailors that there is hope, there is direction, and there is land (a place of rest and stability).

But here's the interesting thing: this blog was not the first one to be called to be a lighthouse.

In the book of Matthew chapter 5:14-16, our vivid storyteller, Jesus, tells the people following Him that they are the "the light of the world" (vs. 14).

He then tells them what type of "light" they shine: good deeds.
"... let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father." (Matthew 5:16, NLT)

Now, we often equate good deeds to giving money to charity, preaching on a pulpit, or serving in a church building. While these are examples of good deeds, they aren't the only good deeds we can do. Even the simplest things we do can shine a light.

For instance:

Asking the person providing you a service for their name, and pronouncing it well is shining a light.
Keeping your promises is shining a light.
Picking up that empty can and placing it in the correct bin is shining a light.
Social distancing and wearing your mask during the COVID-19 season is shining a light.
Telling God about your frustration with a person before you speak to them is shining a light.

The opportunities are endless; all they have to do is represent the character and nature of Jesus, and bring glory to God by responding to the Holy Spirit when you spend time with Him and ask Him to soften your heart.

And, guess what? When you do even one good deed, even when no one sees, you will become a structure that stands tall in the midst of a storm, shining God's light to tell the brave sailors that there is hope, there is direction, and there is land (a place of rest and stability). And that "land" is called Jesus.


Or, in other words, you will be a lighthouse.

And, a final guess what—I just gave you a little taste of what type of storytelling I'll be doing:

I'll be using stories from myself and other people, and tie it to the truth of the Bible to provide applicable insight, direction, and hope.

I hope you stick around for more.

Katai


Cover photo by Johannes Plenio from Pexels