There’s a kind of impact that isn’t loud. It doesn’t demand attention. It doesn’t force its way into the room. But it changes everything.
Jesus didn’t call us to be impressive, successful, or even understood. He called us to be salt and light. Two simple things that quietly transform everything they touch.
Salt: The Hidden Influence
Salt works in ways you don’t always see right away. Before refrigeration, salt was used to preserve what would otherwise decay. Without it, things would slowly rot. And if I’m honest… that’s what the world can feel like sometimes.
Not in a hopeless way, but in a drifting way. Where truth becomes blurred, values become optional, and what once felt clearly right or wrong becomes… negotiable.
That’s where we come in. Not to judge. Not to condemn. But to hold onto what is good when it would be easier to let it slip. To live with integrity when no one is watching. To choose truth even when it’s uncomfortable. To stand gently, but firmly, in what we believe.
Because salt doesn’t shout, it simply preserves. But salt doesn’t just preserve… it adds flavor.
It brings life to what feels dull. Warmth to what feels cold. Depth to what feels empty. And I think sometimes we forget that following God isn’t supposed to make us rigid or lifeless. It’s supposed to make us more alive.
More loving.
More patient.
More gentle.
More present.
Being salt looks like: laughing with people, not just correcting them. Showing kindness when it’s not expected. Creating safe spaces where people can breathe. It’s the kind of presence that makes people feel… lighter.
And then there’s something almost invisible, but incredibly powerful.
Salt creates thirst.
Not by trying to convince people. Not by forcing conversations. But by being different in a way that draws people in.
A peace that doesn’t make sense.
A steadiness in chaos.
A softness that isn’t weakness.
And people start to wonder… “What is it about them?” And the answer isn’t us.
It’s Him.
Light: The Visible Influence
If salt is subtle… light is seen.
Light doesn’t fight darkness. It doesn’t argue with it. It doesn’t try to overpower it. It simply exists, and darkness has to leave. And that’s what we’re called to be.
Light reveals truth. Not in a harsh, exposing way, but in a way that helps people finally see clearly. Sometimes that looks like:
Speaking truth with gentleness.
Living in a way that shows there’s another way to live.
Helping someone recognize their worth when they’ve forgotten it.
Light doesn’t shame. It illuminates. Light also guides the way. In a world full of noise, confusion, and mixed messages… people are searching.
For direction.
For stability.
For something that actually feels real.
And we get to be a reflection that points them back to God. Not because we have all the answers, but because we know where to look.
And maybe the most beautiful part… Light pushes back darkness.
Not always in big, dramatic moments. But in small, consistent ones. Choosing forgiveness when bitterness would be easier. Choosing love when it’s undeserved. Choosing hope when everything feels heavy. Those moments matter more than we realize.
The Tension We Feel
If I’m being real… sometimes it’s hard to be salt and light.
It’s easier to stay quiet. To blend in. To not stand out.
Sometimes I feel like I’m not “good enough” to represent God. Especially when I know I’m still struggling in my own ways.
And that’s the tension. Wanting to reflect Him… while also knowing I’m still being shaped by Him.
But Here’s the Truth
Being salt and light was never about perfection.
It was never about having it all together. It’s about being connected to the source. Because salt without its purpose is useless.
And light that’s hidden doesn’t help anyone. But when we stay close to God… our lives naturally begin to reflect Him. Not forced. Not performative. Just… real.
Maybe making a difference doesn’t mean changing the whole world. Maybe it looks like:
Preserving what’s good in a small moment.
Bringing warmth into someone’s hard day.
Helping one person see clearly.
Choosing to shine, even when it feels uncomfortable.
And trusting that God can take something small… and make it matter more than we could ever see.
Scriptural Musings with Booferchick 