Sin as Forgetfulness: Why Light Must Dwell · Awakened by Christ’s Light

Sin as Forgetfulness: Why Light Must Dwell

Sin has been misunderstood for a very long time. It has been turned into something to fear, something to hide from, something that convinces people they are too far gone, too broken, too stained to return to God. But sin, in its true essence, is not a list of actions. Sin is forgetfulness. It is the dimming of the Light within, and the allowing of darkness to fill the space that Light is no longer occupying.

Darkness has no power of its own. It does not create, it does not conquer, it does not overcome. Darkness only exists where Light is not actively received. And this is the most important truth to remember: the Light has never left you. It has always been there — even in your worst moments, even when you felt lost, even when you forgot who you were. The Light remained, waiting.

This is why Scripture tells us that darkness cannot overcome the Light. It never has, and it never will. The moment Light is received again, darkness does not fight or argue — it simply flees.

This is why there is hope for everyone.

Sin is also mixture. It is the attempt to live with Light and darkness at the same time. It is being double-minded, divided within, wanting God while still clinging to what opposes Him. Scripture calls this state lukewarm. Not fully surrendered to darkness, but not fully given to Light either.

Light and darkness do not blend. They cannot co-occupy the same space. Where Light fully dwells, darkness cannot remain. And where darkness is protected, Light is dimmed — not because Light is weak, but because it is not being received without resistance.

A divided soul is not evil — it is undecided.

A lukewarm soul is not rejected — it is unfinished.

This is why Christ always calls us toward wholeness. The soul must ultimately be filled by one source of life. It will be shaped by what it hosts. And the moment the soul truly chooses Light, the mixture dissolves and clarity returns.

If you truly, sincerely, with your whole being seek Christ — not as a religion, not as a label, not as words on a page — but as the living Light within, as the presence of God through the Holy Spirit, He will redeem you. He will walk with you through every layer of pain, confusion, fear, and shadow. He will not abandon you. He will not rush you. He will not shame you.

But this path is not easy.

Christ never promised ease — He promised life.

There was a time when He showed me that true fasting was not about refusing food. True fasting was about fasting from the world — from noise, distraction, constant stimulation, endless opinions, and the pull of the senses. I became a hermit for almost three years. I withdrew completely, not because I hated the world, but because I needed stillness. The soul cannot hear when everything is loud.

Stillness opens the heart.

Stillness opens the soul.

Stillness prepares the ground so the seed of God can be received.

Without stillness, the seed cannot take root. Without stillness, the Light cannot fill the space. And when Light is not filling the space, darkness appears stronger than it truly is.

I have spent five to six years now, every single day, meditating on the Word of God — not reading it as dead text, but allowing it to live, to breathe, and to work within me. And when I look back at who I once was, I truly do not recognize her anymore. Not because I despise her — but because she is no longer alive. She was transformed. She was laid down. She was healed.

What God has done in me, He did not do because I was special. He did it because I allowed Him to. Because I sought Him with my whole heart. Because I remained when it was quiet. Because I trusted the Light more than the noise.

And what He has done in me, He will do in you as well.

God does not play favorites. God is Love. And Love does not withhold itself. We were created in His image, which means we carry His spark within us. That spark cannot be destroyed. It can be buried. It can be dimmed. It can be forgotten — but it cannot be extinguished.

This is also why Christ said, “Do not fear the one who can kill the body, but fear the one who can destroy the soul.” He was not teaching fear — He was teaching perspective. The flesh has always been temporary. It was never meant to last forever, and it was never meant to be your true identity. Flesh is a garment for a season. Spirit is who you are.

To lose the flesh is not the true loss.

To forget who you are while still wearing it — that is the danger.

And this is something deeply important to understand: when anger rises in you, when bitterness speaks through you, when hatred takes over your thoughts — that is not you. That is not your true self. That is not the image God created. These are signs that Light has been dimmed, not destroyed. Invitations to remember, not reasons to condemn yourself.

God has already placed the power within you — His Light — to remove darkness in an instant. Darkness does not need to be fought endlessly or feared. The moment you recognize it for what it is, and the moment you remember who you truly are, it begins to flee.

This is where Christ’s warning about the cleansed house becomes essential. The house was swept and put in order, but it was left empty. The problem was not cleansing — the problem was indwelling. Light must dwell. Freedom is not the end of the path; filling is.

This is also why Christ spoke of the virgins. The foolish virgin had a lamp but no oil. Awakening without continuation. Knowledge without communion. Light without sustaining presence. And so the flame went out.

The soul was never meant to be an empty, clean room.

The soul was meant to be a living temple, filled with the presence of God.

How Do I Let Light Dwell?

Light dwells daily.

This is what Christ meant when He said we must die to ourselves daily. It is not about self-hatred. It is about laying down the false self — the reactions, the fear, the old identity formed by the world — so that Light can shine brighter.

Each day, the flesh loses authority.

Each day, the Spirit gains ground.

This is how resurrection happens before death.

Light dwells through stillness — making space for God.

Light dwells through honesty — bringing what is dark into truth.

Light dwells through daily remembrance — noticing when we forget and gently returning.

Light dwells through simple presence — not performance, not striving, but communion.

Prayer is not endless asking.

Prayer is alignment.

Prayer is embodiment.

Prayer is being with God.

And as Light dwells more fully, darkness no longer needs to be fought. It simply has no place to remain.