The feast of Easter announces an overwhelming truth: light has triumphed over darkness, life is stronger than death, hope does not disappoint. And yet, even after this announcement, it's not always easy to let this light enter us. Our lives remain full of worries, tiredness, old wounds and silent doubts. How can we concretely welcome the light of the Resurrection into our hearts, our thoughts and our everyday actions?

These five verses are like open windows. They don't illuminate everything all at once, but they let in a breeze, a ray, a breath. To be read slowly. To meditate in calm. To let sink to the deepest depths.

"The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light arise." Isaiah 9:1

This prophetic verse, often read at Christmas, takes on its full meaning at Easter. The people is each one of us. We walk in the darkness of our fears, our falls, our labours. But a light has dawned. It does not come from us. It does not depend on our merit or our efforts. It is pure gift. Grace offered.

Allowing this light in means accepting to be reached where we are. In our shadows. In our loneliness. In what we hide. God's light does not judge. It reveals. It heals. It shines gently, without wounding.

"I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness." John 8:12

Jesus does not simply say that he brings light. He says that he is the light. In him, there is no shadow. By following him, not running, but even walking slowly, we gradually enter into the light.

Following Christ is moving towards the light. It's not running away from reality, it's looking at it differently. It's not denying difficulties, it's going through them with stronger hope. And when we stumble, the light continues to shine. It doesn't go out because you've fallen.

"The night is nearly over, the day is at hand." Romans 13:12

There are long nights. Silences that last. Hopes that are suspended. Paul reminds us here that the day is drawing near. Even if we can't see it yet. Even if everything in us cries out fatigue, weariness or discouragement.

This verse is a promise. It invites us to watch for the signs of morning. To believe that the sun will return. To stand as watchers. To let the light of Easter in is to look towards the dawn, even when we are still in darkness.

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?" Psalm 27:1

This verse is a cry of trust. Not a naïve confidence, but a deep-rooted confidence. The psalmist knows the trial. But he chooses to say that God is his light. Even in the midst of turmoil.

Welcoming the light of Easter means letting God rewrite our certainties. It's not about understanding everything, it's about knowing in whom we put our faith. It means choosing to believe that, even in adversity, God lights the way. That he goes before us. That he never abandons us.

"You are the light of the world." Matthew 5:14

This verse turns everything that has gone before upside down. Jesus is not just saying that he is the light. He says that we are too. He entrusts this light to us. He invites us not to hide it, but to let it shine.

Letting in the light of Easter is not just about receiving it. It means becoming a bearer of it. It means being a reflection. A lighted lamp. A sign. It doesn't have to be anything big. A gesture of love, a right word, a silent prayer are enough.

Conclusion

Letting the light of Easter enter us is making room for God in what we are living, here and now. It means accepting to be visited, lifted up, warmed. It's not about running away from reality, it's about living in it differently. More deeply. More gently.

These five verses are not there to convince. They are there to open up. So that, gently, a space may widen within us. And that one day, perhaps without us even realising it, we in turn become light for others. A light that doesn't come from us, but passes through us.