We set our clocks back Sunday (though some of you reading this may never change your clocks and others may change yours on different dates). This artificial change brings light earlier in the morning but also summons darkness earlier in the evening. Is this a human attempt to control the uncontrollable nature of time? Is it part hubris for humans to attempt to wrangle obedience from the sun and force it to rise and set on our command?

I used to love this weekend every year when I was younger. I relished the extra hour of sleep and waited all day to change my clocks. Each time I looked at the clock, I’d celebrate a small triumph over time: “Hah!” I would think, “I really have an extra hour,” when in fact I only had the same amount of time as always. I could pretend there was a 25-hour day in the fall and ignore the required 23-hour day in the spring to balance the truth that we all only get 24 hours in every day, no matter how much we try to cajole and shift and control time.

Maybe in youth, I walked in a different sort of light, didn’t need the sunlight as much as I do now, wasn’t as influenced by the shorter days and the lessening of the light. As I age, this day and the week that follows grow more difficult for me. It’s like a week of vertigo for my brain as I attempt to adjust to a new pattern of light and dark in life. The dog gets antsy in the afternoon, thinking I’ve forgotten her walk and dinnertime. My husband runs mostly in the dark—whether he runs before or after work—and all too soon, he’ll also leave for work in the dark and return in the dark. I’ve heard from several friends recently, bemoaning the coming dark in this way: “Only the Christmas lights make it better this time of year, but then …” They all seem to trail off at the same point, with an agonized look toward post-Christmas and winter’s dark. This is a hard change.

There’s a Bible verse that comes to mind especially during this week following the time change:

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

— John 1:5 (NIV)

I especially love the NIV translation of this verse because it’s about light (and God) winning, light equaling strength, light defeating the darkness and by extension, good defeating evil.

I’ve been pondering this balance of light and dark more than usual lately as my move looms ever closer. Each goodbye is tinged with both light and dark, but I like to think that the joy of each friendship outweighs the dark sadness of saying a temporary farewell.

I also fret about the light in my new home. Will there be less light in the winter there? And if so, how will it affect me? But the simple truth is this: I am not in control of the darkness and the light. I have to trust that the light can and will overcome the dark.

I bought a golden mum earlier in the Fall, and this is one of my favorite photos of it:

Light overcomes dark.

This mum positively shimmered in place. I would walk by a window and glimpse a golden halo through the glass, the mum defeating darkness and mimicking the sun’s own light.

I should print the photo and write John 1:5 on it. And maybe set it nearby as a reminder to hope even as the dark sets in. Something like this (feel free to print this out, if you like):

Attempting to control light and dark
Will we forever try to control time and dark and light? This National Geographic article suggests that the answer is yes. It’s a great read if you’d like to learn more about the history of US efforts to fiddle with the sun. My favorite line: “‘As you can imagine, the Congressional Record on daylight saving constitutes the great comic novel of the 20th century.'”

Check out this Washington Post article about the politics of time. The article also provides a map of countries that practice the time switch. If the time change itself hasn’t already made you dizzy, this list of countries and their decisions about time zones and changes may leave you feeling a little off kilter.

And if you’re looking for a defense of the dark, this is a beautiful read. My favorite line: “Surrendering to the dark was my only hope of making peace with the light.” Because, after all, even the light can overwhelm us somedays.

So how about you? How are you adjusting? Does “falling back” affect you?