There is a window in your heart through which you can see God.  Once upon a time that window was clear.  Your view of God was crisp.  You could see God as vividly as you could see a gentle valley or hillside.  The glass was clean, the pane unbroken.

    You knew God.  You knew how he worked.  You knew what he wanted you to do.  No surprises.  Nothing unexpected.  You knew that God had a will, and you continually discovered what it was.

    Then, suddenly, the window cracked.  A pebble broke the window.  A pebble of pain.
Perhaps the stone struck when you were a child and a parent left home – forever.  Maybe the rock hit in adolescence when your heart was broken.  Maybe you made it into adulthood before the window was cracked.  But then the pebble came.

    Was it a phone call?  “We have your daughter at the station.  You’d better come down.”

    Was it a letter on the kitchen table?  “I’ve left.  Don’t try to reach me.  Don’t try to call me.  It’s over.  I just don’t love you anymore.”

    Was it a diagnosis from the doctor?  “I’m afraid our news is not very good.”

    Was it a telegram?  “We regret to inform you that your son is missing in action.”

    Whatever the pebble’s form, the result was the same – a shattered window.  The pebble missiled into the pane and shattered it.  The crash echoed down the halls of your heart.  Cracks shot out from the point of impact, creating a spider web of fragmented pieces.

    And suddenly God was not so easy to see.  The view that had been so crisp had changed.  You turned to see God, and his figure was distorted.  It was hard to see him through the pain.  It was hard to see him through the fragments of hurt.

    You were puzzled.  God wouldn’t allow something like this to happen, would he?  Tragedy and travesty weren’t on the agenda of the One you had seen, were they?  Had you been fooled?  Had you been blind?

    The moment the pebble struck, the glass became a reference point for you.  From then on, there was life before the pain and life after the pain.  Before your pain, the view was clear; God seemed so near.  After your pain, well, he was harder to see.  He seemed a bit distant…harder to perceive.  Your pain distorted the view – not eclipsed it, but distorted it.

    We look for God, but can’t find him.  Fragmented glass hinders our vision.  He is enlarged through this piece and reduced through that one.  Lines jigsaw their way across his face.  Large sections of shattered glass opaque the view.

    And now you aren’t quite sure what you see.

    When you can’t see him, trust him.