Sometimes I wonder why angels left the love and beauty of heaven. How could they abandon such goodness? They were created into wholeness and perfection, surrounded by glory, given power and purpose. And yet, the Bible tells us that a third of them gave it all up to follow Satan and his cruel ways.

Adam and Eve likewise were surrounded by beauty, abundance and love. And yet, they chose the darkness also.

I’m not a theologian. I know that much scholarship has been devoted to answering that question. But I am a mother, and I can’t help but notice some parallels.

Entitlement is a common parenting issue in our day. Entitled children can’t appreciate a gift. They’re anxious and angry and disappointed in their riches, because they are convinced that there is always more and better out there somewhere. That there is always someone in a more privileged position. That there is always a better present under the tree with another person’s name on it. So instead of enjoying all that they have and being grateful for it, they can only focus on what they don’t have, and fix blame onto the one they think is withholding it from them.

Children and angels—and you and me—are prone to take our blessings for granted. Every parent knows that it is hard work to raise a grateful child. Even harder is controlling our own grasping hearts. We all battle against entitlement. Against covetousness. Against our expectations that God will give us the life we want.

The angels, and Adam and Eve, lived in a world unmarred by sin and sorrow. But we are born into a world scarred by thousands of years of covetousness and entitlement. Wars, violence, and oppression mark our history. Power-drunk tyrants and petty bullies mar our stories, both personal and collective.

I used to think it odd that one of the Ten Commandments forbids covetousness. Is that really as bad as murder or adultery or stealing? Well yes, it is. Jesus made it clear that sins begin in our hearts long before they are acted upon. And James was clear on the progression of thought to action (James 1:14-15). The result? We are born into a darkness that holds us captive until our eyes are opened to the existence of light—Jesus, the Light of the World.

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

John 8:12

We emerge from that darkness as new creations, blinking in the brightness of what we once dismissed in our empty pursuit of the good life. Heaven’s joy grows ever more beautiful before us as we awaken to what we’ve been missing.

Now we look to Heaven not as some ethereal imagining, but as the culmination of all our deepest longings. “Your kingdom come,” we pray, with all the surging hope of unrealized desire. We begin to understand that Heaven isn’t something we’re entitled to, but an undeserved gift lavished upon us; so we learn to wrestle our natural covetousness into submission in exchange for a growing fount of gratitude.

For how, after all, can we appreciate joy unless we’ve known sorrow? How can we appreciate a welcome unless we’ve been rejected? How can we appreciate a feast unless we’ve been hungry? What wonder does eternal life hold, unless we’ve witnessed the cold reality of death?

I don’t know why those angels chose the darkness after living in the light. There are theologians and pastors who can answer that question, I’m sure. But I do know this: that the light is where I want to live, today and always.

For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord.

Ephesians 5:8-10