Seven of the eight of my office windows have 24 panes of glass separated by (metal of some kind) strips; the remaining has just 18 panes because of a permanently installed air conditioner. Of these 168 panes of glass, each was covered in frost when I arrived this morning. The patterns of the frost were different in each pane, yet each was beautiful and together they were as stunning as any stained glass.
Slowly, as the sun rises higher in the sky, those panes in the east windows are melting; the sound of the crinkling ice is ever so slight, but noticeable in the otherwise silent building.
So it is with God's voice in the midst of these frightful days. Barely noticeably the Realm of God crinkles into our midst like a fleeting bit of melting beauty.
The Light of hope, shalom, grace, and extravagant love changes us too.
The ice may be the result of the bitter cold. But the light still shines upon each of us and warms our souls.
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