The Lamp Meant for the Highest Room

There was a man preparing a lamp for the highest room of the house,

the room where only true light could remain, where no shadow could pretend to belong.

He polished the lamp every day.

He made sure it reflected beautifully when others passed by.

He adjusted it carefully so it caught admiration,

so no one would question whether it belonged there.

But the oil inside was rarely tended.

When the flame weakened, he dismissed it as an illusion.

When the wick cracked, he laughed and called it lightness.

And when the one who depended on the warmth began to ache,

he said, “You’re too sensitive. The lamp is fine.”

Another lived beside him.

One who noticed the silence when warmth disappeared,

who felt the chill long before the darkness was visible.

She spoke carefully,

because she loved the light

and believed in what it was meant to become.

She said,

“This lamp was created to give warmth, not applause.

Light is not proven by how it looks, but by how it holds others.”

But the man answered,

"What matters is that it appears ready.

People see what they see.”

Then the Master of the house came.

He did not praise the shine.

He did not comment on how impressive it looked in the window.

He opened the lamp.

And He said,

“In the rooms where I dwell, light is sustained by humility.

Sarcasm poisons the wick.

Pride seals the chamber where oil should flow.

And appearances,

no matter how refined,

cannot survive celestial fire.”

The man trembled,

not because the lamp was exposed,

but because he saw that love was neglected in the name of image

becomes a quiet kind of darkness.

And the Master said,

“Celestial light is not maintained by performance.

It is preserved by repair.

By tenderness.

By choosing oil over image,

truth over comfort,

and covenant over being admired.”

“If you wish to bring this lamp into the highest room,”

the Master continued,

“You must be willing to change how you tend it.

For eternal light is not impressed by shine,

only by what it gives when no one is watching.”

And the room remained silent,

waiting to see whether the lamp would finally be filled.