Radiant Light: Actualization That Heralds The Kingdom

Advent 2025: Week One, Day 7

We frequently pray for God’s Kingdom to come. We even say it over and over in worship. “Come Lord Jesus, Messiah, Come…” as we should. But isn’t it odd that if this is our desire, our call, our hope, why do we struggle with actually living out these words everyday moment-by-moment. How do we focus our hearts and minds on the coming of Lord Jesus, our Y’eshua? The inevitability of His return is certain. Do we live expectantly? Do our daily choices demonstrate the hope and belief in Christ’s return?

Are we truly ready to meet Christ. Do we live an Advent life? Hmmmm.  

If truth be known, might we even be a little frightened to meet our loving Y’eshua face to face? So, how do we unite our thoughts and feelings about death and living an Advent Life? How can we overcome the hopelessness of so much tragedy, pain, abounding selfishness, greed, hate, and chaos in the world. How could Hope be relative to this?

The Hope created by and in Y’eshua’s first coming has given us a glimpse of what it will be like living in a perfect world. Y’eshua, God in flesh, came to earth to live and die and live again to bring this Hope.  So, what does Hope look like in our fallen world? What is the actualization that heralds the kingdom come? How can we live out an Advent life?

Jesus taught us:

“… Let your light shine (radiate) before people in such a way that they will see your good actions and glorify your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16). 

Perhaps a story to illustrate…

“My name’s Walter. I’m 69. I’m the night custodian at Lincoln Middle School. Been mopping these halls for 11 years. Most folks don’t even know my name. I’m just “the janitor guy” who empties trash and fixes broken lockers.

But I notice things.

Like locker 247. Every morning, I’d find food wrappers stuffed in the vents. Candy bars, chip bags, cracker boxes. At first, I thought it was just messy kids. Then I realized, someone was hiding food.

One night, I stayed late. Around 8 p.m., I heard the side door creak. A girl, maybe 13, sneaked in with a backpack. Went straight to locker 247, stuffed it with grocery bags, then left quickly.

Next morning, the food was gone.

I didn’t report it. Instead, I watched. For two weeks, same pattern. She’d stock it at night. By morning, empty.

Finally, I left a note in the locker, “You’re not in trouble. I just want to help. -Walter, the custodian”

Next night, she came to my supply closet. Terrified. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she begged. Her name was Sarah. She’d been sneaking food to three younger kids, brothers whose dad worked double shifts and forgot to buy groceries. “They’re too embarrassed to ask anyone,” she whispered. “So I use my lunch money and… borrow from my mom’s pantry.”

My heart shattered.

“What if,” I said slowly, “locker 247 just… had food in it? And nobody asked questions?”

Her eyes went wide.

I started small. Spent $30 of my paycheck on peanut butter, bread, juice boxes. Left it in the locker overnight. By morning, gone. So I added more. Granola bars. Apples. Crackers.

Then something unexpected happened, I found money taped inside the locker door. $5 and a note, “I’m a teacher. I know what you’re doing. Here’s for more food.”

Then $20 from someone else. “My kid graduated from Lincoln. This school saved him. Keep going.”

Within a month, other staff knew. The nurse donated. The librarian brought canned soup. The gym teacher left his Costco card. “Buy in bulk,” he said. “I’ll cover it.”

Locker 247 became legendary. But quiet. No announcements. No assemblies. Just… there. A place where hungry kids could take what they needed without shame.

Sarah graduated last year. Came back to see me during finals week. “Walter, I’m studying social work now,” she said. “Because of you. You taught me something. Hunger hides in plain sight. But so does kindness.”

She handed me a photo. Locker 247, but at a different school. Across town. “My college volunteer project,” she smiled. “We’re putting them everywhere.”

I cried in my supply closet that night. Sixty-nine years old, crying over a locker.

Now? Seventeen schools in our county have them. They call it “The 247 Project.” Stock the locker. Ask no questions. Feed the invisible kids.

I’m just a janitor. I mop floors and unclog toilets. But I learned this: Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is notice. And then quietly make space for dignity.

So look around. At school, work, your neighborhood. Someone’s hiding their hunger. Their struggle. Their shame.

Leave something behind. Food, money, hope.

Locker 247 isn’t just metal and paint. It’s proof that caring doesn’t need permission. Just action.

This story was posted on Facebook by Ashley Andrade on November 25, https://www.facebook.com/share/p/17mjpvkg99/?mibextid=wwXIfr

So How is hope relative to this?

This kind of Light Shining in our messed-up world, illuminates the Hope of Advent or an “Advent” lifestyle. Living out this light in our lives, letting it shine through our care and actions, is the real work of God’s Kingdom.

As our light shines, our expectancy grows and God’s Kingdom is illuminated to others around us. Our good deeds glorify the Father, heal the hurts around us, and draws many others to Him  

Father God and our Lord Jesus Christ, our Y’eshua show us how to live expectantly, awaiting your return. Teach us to pursue you, as you pursued us. Write Your words of life on our hearts and lifestyles so that we are radiant beams that shine out your glory to others, and let Your Kingdom will come.