I did not take this photograph; I do not know where it was taken. It found me. I kept returning to it to think of its story. How many hymns were sung by the faithful in this country chapel? How many wedding vows repeated as families began? How does the color of the glass glow when lit from inside at twilight?
I am grateful for those stories, the message of endurance told by weathered wood and stained glass.
It does make you wonder…so many happy as well as sad moments were shared behind that window.
as I read this now and realize how close it was written to the tragic massacre of people in the small church in Sutherland Springs last Sunday, I wept. Almost the entire little congregation, including the teenage daughter of the pastor.
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