Amid all this lived this sturdy little woman, keeping her lamp alight so that New York Harbor might be safe for ships that pass in the night.

Obituary, Kate Walker, New York Evening Post, February 5, 1931

In New York Harbor, between Staten Island and the Statue of Liberty, a small lighthouse sits on a sunken shoal called Robbins Reef. Built in 1839, it is not, you won’t be surprised to learn, still lit with whale oil.

In 1882, a young widow named Katherine Gortler immigrated with her young son to the United States from Germany. Several years later, she met and married Captain John Walker, keeper of the lighthouse on land in Sandy Hook, New Jersey. She was happy there with her new husband, assisting him in his lighthouse duties, tending her home and garden. But Kate’s life was going to change.

The captain was transferred to the Robbins Reef Lighthouse on a submerged sandbar in the middle of a huge harbor. In an interview Kate said, “As soon as we arrived I said to my husband, ‘I can’t stay here! The sight of water wherever I look makes me too lonesome. I won’t unpack!'” But she did unpack. She was also hired as assistant lighthouse keeper. A daughter was born. Five years later her husband caught cold while tending the light. It rapidly developed into pneumonia and he was taken to the infirmary on Staten Island. A few nights later she saw a rowboat headed to the lighthouse with a message she knew would break her heart.

“We buried my husband on a hillside on Staten Island. Every morning when the sun comes up I stand at a porthole and look across the water toward his grave. It always brings a message from him – something I heard him say more often than anything else, and his last words to me: ‘Mind the light, Kate!‘”

For the next 33 years Kate did mind the light. She lit it each evening and it flashed every six seconds until dawn. If there was fog, she started an engine in the basement that sent out foghorn blasts at 3-second intervals. If it failed, she would hammer on a bell at the top of the tower to let the mainland know the foghorn needed repair.

The water around the reef was treacherous. Over the years she rescued 50 people and one dog. Once she almost lost her life in a sudden storm while rowing back from Staten Island. After three hours of struggling in snow and wind, a ferry managed to tow her close to the lighthouse. By the time she ascended the ladder, she was covered in ice.

In another storm, her rowboat began to come loose from its moorings. As she struggle to secure it, the chain swung and hit her in the eye while the wind nearly blew her into the sea.

And in the midst of it all, when her children were school age, she rowed them seven nautical miles to Staten Island for classes.

In 1919, after 33 years of keeping the light, she retired and moved to a cottage with a garden on Staten Island.

Now, as 2021 arrives, we have just closed the door on a year of adversity. That is the word that springs to mind. Other words also spring to mind, but never mind. The question is: what is the overarching view or attitude or personal mandate with which we are approaching this new year? You are likely considering that question on some level. Regardless of your answer or my answer, it is vitally important that we mind the light. For starters:

• Got our Bible reading plan in place? Excellent ideas here: http://www.thrivehere.church/newyear/
• Are we praying daily? Any task or goal or need or that is first taken to God will have a proper result – that is, God’s will.
• Who needs a call of comfort or encouragement from us this week?

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world.” The Apostle John adds: “. . . as He is, so are we in this world.” No qualifiers, no exceptions.

We’ve learned a lot with all that 2020 adversity training. It is likely we’ll be called on to exercise even more discernment, determination, and endurance than ever before. The business of God’s kingdom is carried out successfully by those who don’t make excuses, who resolutely mind the light. So courage, friends. Your light will be greatly needed in the days to come.