Stained Glass

A child sat in church beneath the morning sun.

All around him, light poured through the stained-glass windows.

Blue crossed the floor.

Gold rested on the pews.

Red touched the hands of the people nearby.

For a moment, he thought the windows were making the light.

Then someone whispered,

“The glass does not create the light.

It only colors what passes through.”

The child looked again.

The light outside was one light.

The same sun touched every window.

But each pane received it differently.

The light was the same.

The tint was different.

And together, the colors filled the room.

Then the old words began to make new sense.

John wrote that life was in Christ, and that life was the light of humanity.

Jesus said, “I am the light of the world.”

Then He told His followers, “You are the light of the world.”

Not because they were the Source —

but because their lives were meant to let the Light be seen.

People are like stained glass.

We receive the same Light, but what passes through us is colored by what we carry —

memory, pain, family, fear, healing, choice, awakening.

Some let the Light through as joy.

Some as mercy.

Some as courage.

Some as peace.

And when the Spirit shapes the glass, the colors begin to look familiar:

Love.

Joy.

Peace.

Patience.

Kindness.

Goodness.

Faithfulness.

Gentleness.

And self-control.

The child kept watching the windows.

The sun had not changed.

The windows had revealed it.

And maybe people were the same.

The Light is already shining.

The question is:

What color do we let through?