God's message through the pane

God's message for me came through the pane, and sometimes it comes through my pain too.

A blanket of moist haze was draping itself across the dawn of a new day as I drove to the hospital Thursday. Zac and his daddy had spent the night together in room 812, and this would be the morning that Zac would have an endoscopy, one of many tests, to find what has been causing him so much pain for the last 3 weeks.  I walked into his room on the very top floor, to find Zac awake and excited to tell me he had been looking outside his window and was fascinated watching how lighting could turn huge grey rolling clouds into glowing white clouds.

At 10 that morning, I found myself sitting in the chapel. Zac had just been taken in for the test and we were asked to wait outside. Instead of going to the waiting room, I walked away; I needed a quiet place…too much to think about.

The room was empty, except for a woman who was devotedly reading some prayer book. I found that my mind was too tired and too anxious to turn inward and pray.  Graphic messages surrounded me, inviting me to trust, to have hope, to be open to love. Somehow those images were not enough to inspire me to trust, hope or love.  The visual chaos of this space was overwhelming. My brain began to operate in my analytical mode and I started critiquing the interior environment. I realized I was wearing my “programming analyzer” hat and focused harder to find my inner place where I could contemplate Peace. I closed my eyes for a bit, and then opened them again.

That’s when I became aware of the glass paneled walls; they had been veiling themselves by transforming into thin irregular vertical ribbons with the help of falling raindrops outside.  The mist forming on the other side of the glass seemed to be grasping at the window panes, creating a beautiful broken image of Nature. It was compelling to look at; as compelling as the intricately painted icon of Jesus on a cross, which hung boldly on the main wall symbolizing sacrificial love; even more captivating than the colorful artistic interpretations of the Stations of the Cross that recalled an Easter story of love, sacrifice and redemption. This place would be most successful had it capitalized on the simplicity of the views beyond I concluded.  My heart desired that I rest my eyes a while on those blurred images framed within each pane; like new eyes each pane of glass allowed me to experience a peaceful affirmation of the Unknown; an experience with the mystery of hope.  Gazing at the abstract forms, enjoying the vibrancy of the moist, cool, shades of green, noticing the wet droplets that softly were falling and nourishing life, well, it felt good, it felt right.  It was the message I needed to dwell upon.  Nourishment…God is life!

Isn’t it wonderful when clouds, lightening, and rain, can be such meaningful expressions of God’s presence; an affirmation that He is there. Even in the anxiety of your existence, even when you find it hard to pray, all we have to do is look around and find Him. He is never distant.  Zac naturally found him in the mighty lightening that morning. I found him too, through the pane.