Lesson 188 from A Course in Miracles which teach, “The peace of God is shining in me now,“ opens with a provocative question: “Why wait for heaven?” With just four words, it challenges a belief many of us quietly hold — that peace, joy, belonging, and safety live somewhere else, in some future time, after some set of conditions have been met. Yet the Course insists heaven is not a destination but a recognition.
“Enlightenment,” it says, “is but a recognition, not a change at all.” The light we seek is not found out there, but within us now.
The lesson goes further, reminding us that the light we carry did not originate in this world. “The light came with you from your native home and stayed with you… It is the only thing you bring with you from Him who is your Source.” We are, in the Course’s telling, prodigals — wandering for a time in a strange land, temporarily forgetting where we came from, yet still holding within us the unmistakable resonance of home.
The Prodigal Child Story and the Recognition of Light
One of the most resonant parallels to Lesson 188 is the parable of the Prodigal Son from the Gospel of Luke. Traditionally told as a story of repentance and forgiveness, it is equally a story of remembrance. The prodigal son leaves home, squanders his inheritance, and finds himself starving in a foreign country. The pivotal turning point is not judgment, shame, or punishment — it is recognition. Scripture describes it simply: “He came to his senses.” (Luke 15:17)
Whether that awakening was sparked by memory, longing, or some subtle inner light, the result is the same: the son remembers he has a home. He returns expecting at best a servant’s role, yet instead finds unconditional welcome — a feast, a robe, rings, and joy. The father does not lecture, demand repayment, or recount the errors committed. He restores. He embraces. He celebrates.
In many ways, Lesson 188 reframes this parable metaphysically. We often wander through life believing that separation — from God, purpose, love, or meaning — is real and permanent. Yet if we are prodigals, we are prodigals who never lost the inheritance we feared we had squandered. The Course insists, almost uncomfortably for our egos, that not only does God welcome us home, but God gives thanks when we remember who we are.
Paragraph four underscores this extraordinary idea:
“To you, the giver of the gift, does God Himself give thanks.”
Imagine that — heaven thanking us. Not because we perform heroic deeds or master impossible tasks, but because we allow the light within to shine again. To awaken to our original nature is to participate in a cosmic circulation of recognition: we remember the light in ourselves, we see it in others, and the world becomes brighter as a result.
What Cannot Be Damaged
The Course emphasizes that while our bodies, identities, and circumstances can be shaken, the inner light cannot be diminished. It cannot be tarnished by time, failure, or suffering. It cannot be overridden by political headlines, broken relationships, or even our own self-doubt. When Lesson 188 says, “The peace of God is shining in me now,” it does not say “someday,” or “if I improve myself,” or “once external conditions settle down.” It says now.
Peace, in this lesson, is not passive nor fragile — it is luminous. It radiates. It strengthens. It comforts. It empowers. And, in the Course’s language, it “reminds the world of what it has forgotten.” This is what the teachers on the podcast called the “lighthouse brand” — each of us becoming a harbor light for others who are still navigating stormy seas.
Bringing Light to the Headlines
This luminous lens becomes especially relevant when applied to our news cycles, which often amplify fear, division, and tribalism. Current events were mentioned during the podcast not to take political positions but to demonstrate a spiritual practice: holding the world’s fractured stories in light rather than grievance.
Consider the recent geopolitical tensions between the United States and Venezuela, or the tragic killing of Renee Goode in Minneapolis. These events provoke instant polarization — we are pressured to choose sides, defend ideologies, and interpret suffering through rigid political frames. But there is another way to see. If we step outside the reflexive us versus them mentality, space opens for mourning, compassion, curiosity, and healing. We can ask deeper questions: What are Venezuelan families enduring? How are U.S. citizens interpreting these actions? Whose safety is at stake? Whose humanity is being overlooked? Grievances can still be acknowledged, but from the standpoint of truth-seeking instead of tribal combat.
Even celebrity divorce headlines — such as the recent split of influencer couple Christie Sarah and Desmond Scott — reveal the universal longing for love and stability. When public relationships falter, people often respond with despair: “If they can’t make it, what hope do the rest of us have?” The same reaction occurred when Bill and Melinda Gates divorced, and again with Jeff Bezos. Yet beneath the spectacle is a quiet reminder: our idols cannot rescue us from the vulnerability inherent in relationships. Love remains mysterious, tender, and profoundly human.
The Course teaches that the purpose of shining light is not to deny pain, but to bring pain to healing. When we shine light on suffering — whether personal, political, or societal — we neither escape reality nor drown in it. We honor it by offering it to a higher perception.
Coming Home Today
The most powerful part of Lesson 188 may be its simplicity. If heaven is a recognition, then coming home is not a future event or distant afterlife — it is a present choice. We return home not by earning our worthiness, but by remembering it. We do not create light, we uncover it. We do not become divine, we awaken to the fact that we always were.
“Why wait for heaven?” is both an invitation and a challenge. Many of us are waiting without realizing we are waiting — waiting for relationships to improve, bodies to heal, bank accounts to stabilize, politicians to behave, or the world to stop burning. Yet the Course dares to suggest that peace does not depend on externals aligning. It depends on recognition aligning.
When the prodigal returns, the father does not say, “Come back after you fix everything.” He says, essentially, “You never ceased to belong.”
A Call to Action: Shine What You Already Are
If we take Lesson 188 seriously, it changes how we move through the world. It means we can:
Stop postponing peace
Stop outsourcing belonging
Stop believing heaven is elsewhere
Stop assuming enlightenment is for other people
And instead…
Come home in this breath
Remember what has always been true
Shine light into the spaces where fear once lived
Become a lighthouse for others still at sea
Not by force. Not by moral superiority. Simply by remembering.
So here is the invitation for today — a gentle, inclusive call to action:
Come home now.
Not someday. Not after you improve yourself. Not after the headlines settle down. Today.
Let the peace of God shine in you now.
Let the light you carry remind the world of what it has not yet forgotten — that we belong to one another, that separation is temporary, and that love is our home.
If we do that, even imperfectly, we become what the Course describes so beautifully: light-bearers. And heaven — astonishingly — gives thanks.
