Last week, my daughter had a nightmare. The kind where everything feels too quiet. I sat at the edge of her bed, the nightlight glowing faintly, and rubbed her back. Then she said, “Did you know, Daddy? We glow too.”

I smiled — thought it sounded like something out of a children’s movie. But she was right.

In an article published by BBC Science Focus on May 20, 2025, physicist Dr. Daniel Oblak of the University of Calgary explained that every living organism emits what’s called ultraweak photon emission — UPE for short. It’s not spiritual mysticism or aura theory. It’s science.

“UPE is a result of a biochemical process and in that sense is related to what happens in a glow-stick, which no one suspects of having an aura,”  — Oblak, 2025

This light is invisible to the human eye — 1,000 to 1,000,000 times too dim to detect — but it’s there. Constant. Continuous. And it stops only when life does.

“When an organism ceases living, it stops metabolizing and thus, the ultraweak photon emission ends,”  — Oblak, 2025

To scientists, it’s a novel tool — maybe even a non-invasive way to measure tissue health or crop stress. But to those of us who believe we were made in the image of God?

It might be something more?

What if this glow is more than just biology?

What if it’s a signature of the One who said, “Let there be light”?

What if your light is not a metaphor, but a quiet, radiant truth?

When Science Meets Psalm

Ultraweak photon emission happens when your body, under the strain of metabolism, produces reactive oxygen species, or ROS. These unstable molecules create tiny reactions that release light.

But here’s the part that caught me: the glow increases with stress.

As Hatty Willmoth wrote in her BBC piece, scientists found that living mice gave off significantly more UPE than dead ones. More striking still: scratched leaves glowed more than intact ones. Damage produced light. Pressure made it brighter.

And still, the glow disappears when life ends. Scripture begins with light:

“Let there be light,” and there was light. And God saw that the light was good— Genesis 1:3–4 

God didn’t start the world with mountains, plants, or oceans. He began with light. And in the final chapters of Revelation, we’re told that there will be no more need for sun or moon:

“…the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb.” — Revelation 21:23

From the first page to the last, light is not a background detail. It’s the thread that runs through all of creation.

And now, even science says: you glow.

Not because you are divine, but because you are designed.

Because you carry the fingerprint of the One who is Light Himself.

When the Light Grows Stronger in Suffering

It’s easy to believe our shine fades when we suffer. But UPE tells another story. Under pressure — when our bodies feel weakest — our light intensifies.

Scripture mirrors this truth, too.

“For God… has shone in our hearts… But we have this treasure in jars of clay…” — 2 Corinthians 4:6–7 

We’re the jars. Fragile. Worn. Cracked.

And maybe that’s exactly how the light gets out.

Spurgeon once said, “Stars shine brightest in the darkest nights.” He believed suffering didn’t hide our faith — it revealed it.

So maybe the wear on your life isn’t proof you’ve lost your glow.

Maybe it’s how it becomes visible to others.

Light That Keeps Traveling

Here’s something I keep coming back to: light keeps moving even after its source burns out.

The stars we see in the night sky? Many of them died ages ago. But their light is still arriving. Still reaching us.

What if your life works the same way?

What if the love you offered in quiet sacrifice…

The forgiveness you gave when no one noticed…

The prayer you whispered and never mentioned again — 

What if those moments are still moving through someone else’s story?

Jesus said:

“You are the light of the world… Let your light shine before others.” — Matthew 5:14–16 

This wasn’t a call to performance. It was an invitation to reflect on something eternal.

Not to be seen.

But to help others see.

When You Can’t Feel It

I’ve had seasons where I couldn’t feel the light in me at all.

Prayer felt empty. Worship went through the motions. Scripture sounded flat. I wondered if anything was still glowing beneath it.

Years ago, I sat in my car after visiting someone in the hospital. We had prayed hard, but they didn’t get better.

I stared at the steering wheel and asked God if He was even listening.

There was no voice. No sign. Just silence.

But I kept driving.

Kept praying, in my own quiet way.

Kept holding on.

Most of our lives aren’t lived in moments of clarity. They’ve lived in between — where faith is just remembering who God is when we can’t see clearly.

Bonhoeffer, writing from prison, asked:

“Who stands fast? Only the man whose final standard is not his reason, his principles, his conscience, but who is ready to sacrifice all… out of faith and in allegiance to God.” — Bonhoeffer, 1953.

Not the one with perfect answers. But the one willing to stay faithful anyway.

A Gentle Invitation

All this light — it’s not just science or symbolism.

It’s personal.

Where have you stopped believing the light is still in you?

A season of grief? A dream that died quietly? A stretch of spiritual silence?

Who around you still glows quietly in the dark?

The person who never complains. The one holding others up while barely standing. The one whose strength looks like a quiet presence.

Maybe they shine more than they know.

Maybe you do, too.

Let this be your prayer today:

“Lord, help me believe there is light in me, even when I can’t feel it. Let it reflect of You. Quietly. Steadily. For as long as I live.”

Join the Conversation

My daughter’s voice still echoes: “Did you know we glow too?”

Yes.

Science confirms it.

Scripture affirms it.

And maybe your soul just needed to remember it.

Now I’d love to hear from you.

Have you known someone whose quiet strength carried light through pain? Have you ever felt God’s presence in a moment you didn’t expect? What verse or story reminds you that you still carry His light?

Share below. Your words might be someone else’s reminder that they’re still glowing, too.

Let’s shine — quietly, faithfully, together.

References

Willmoth, H. (2025, May 20). All humans emit subtle light until they die, a study suggests. BBC Science Focus.

Bonhoeffer, D. (1953). Letters and papers from prison. (E. Bethge, Ed.; R. H. Fuller, Trans.). SCM Press.

Spurgeon, C. H. (1866). Morning and evening: Daily readings.

The opinions expressed here are my own and do not reflect the views or positions of my employer.