I'm thankful that God gave me light again, and to be light for

Tabitha Brown once spoke with reverence and humility: “I’m thankful that God gave me light again, and to be light for other people’s darkness is a responsibility that I take very seriously.” These words are not mere sentiment, but a hymn rising from the soul—an acknowledgment of divine mercy, of renewal after trial, and of the sacred duty to share one’s blessings with others. It is the wisdom of one who has walked through shadow and returned bearing fire, knowing that the flame is not given to be hidden but to guide the lost.

The ancients understood this truth. In every culture, the imagery of light and darkness has been the language of hope and despair, of truth and ignorance, of life and death. The Greeks spoke of Prometheus, who defied the gods to bring fire to humankind, gifting them warmth, knowledge, and progress. In the scriptures, it is written that light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it. Brown’s words echo these timeless truths: to receive light is to receive salvation, but to bear it for others is the noblest of burdens.

Her gratitude to God reveals another ancient lesson: that all gifts are entrusted, not earned. The warrior may think his strength is his own, the scholar may believe his wisdom is self-made, but the humble know that every gift flows from a higher source. To be thankful is to keep the heart pure, to remember that the light we carry is not ours by possession but ours by stewardship. And in this humility, we find strength to share rather than hoard, to heal rather than exalt ourselves.

Consider the story of Harriet Tubman. Born into slavery, she endured unimaginable darkness. Yet when she found freedom, she did not rest content with her own liberation. She became a guiding star for others, returning again and again to lead her people through peril into the light of freedom. Her life mirrors Brown’s words: that to be light in another’s darkness is not only an act of compassion but a responsibility—a calling that cannot be ignored once one has been touched by grace.

There is also great weight in the word responsibility. For to shine is not merely to exist—it is to act, to serve, to guide. Light that refuses to illuminate is wasted, like a lamp hidden beneath a basket. Those who have been delivered from suffering are called to aid others who still wander in shadow. This is no small duty; it demands courage, humility, and sacrifice. Yet it is through this sacred work that lives are changed, families restored, and futures redeemed.

The meaning of Brown’s words, then, is both deeply personal and universally human. Each of us, in some season, has known darkness—whether of sorrow, failure, illness, or despair. When light comes again, whether through faith, healing, or the kindness of others, it is not given merely for our comfort. It is given so that we might hold it high, like a torch in the night, that others may see and find their way. Gratitude must always flow into service.

The lesson is clear. To those who have found light: be thankful, but do not keep it only for yourself. Speak words that encourage, extend hands that lift, live in such a way that your presence brings hope where there was none. To those still in darkness: remember that the light exists, though unseen for a time, and that others will carry it to you. And to all: recognize that life is not only about survival, but about becoming a vessel of brightness in a world that too often forgets how to see.

Practical counsel may be given. Begin by giving thanks daily for the light you possess, whether it is health, love, knowledge, or peace. Share it in small acts—listen with patience, encourage with sincerity, serve with humility. Do not be afraid of the responsibility, for it is in bearing it that your own light grows brighter. And when the shadows of life return, as they surely will, you will not stumble alone, but be surrounded by the very light you once gave to others.

Thus, Brown’s words stand as a beacon: “I’m thankful that God gave me light again, and to be light for other people’s darkness is a responsibility.” Let us honor this wisdom by becoming torches ourselves, carrying brightness into the hidden places of the world. For the measure of a soul is not in how brightly it shines for itself, but in how faithfully it illuminates the path for others.