There is something sacred and beautiful in the artistry of stained glass. I’ve always been fascinated by the intricate patterns that comprise many familiar Bible stories – from the story of Christ to Old Testament legends (Daniel, David and Moses to name a few). I remember as a child becoming lost in the colors and patterns, often times zoning out during the sermon. Even today, as the sunlight played amongst the colors, I became enchanted by the beauty. From what I’ve read, each piece of the pattern is created by a master craftsman who fashions the glass in fire, flattens it, adds the desired colors, cuts it into various shapes and lays it into a pattern – piece by piece. The process sounds very precise, time consuming, and labor intensive. Yet, I would imagine a labor of love. To create something of beauty must be a joy. However, its true beauty is not revealed until the sun pours through the many facets.
I imagine our life is the same. Each piece of our life -the good, bad, trying, glorious, heartbreaking -have been laid out into a spectacular mosaic of color and beauty. One of the ingredients of the glass is potash and I am reminded that beauty arises from the ashes. Our beauty is more often than not forged in fires as well. So many of us travel our journey broken shards of glass, but I know if we give our broken pieces to our master artisan, He can gently place them into a story that reveals His glory. People really do not need to know all the details for our lives to reflect the glory. Do they? I believe all people really need to see is the beauty our story tells when His radiance shines through our stains.