I stepped into the silence of an empty sanctuary this afternoon and closed my eyes. Something about this last few weeks has had my heart begging for a moment like this. I had been working up the courage to seek it out. Instead of waiting on me, God offered me the opportunity and invited me to come. Taking a deep breath, I stepped further in... and waited. 

Facing the cross at the front... alone... with the whole world outside a closed door behind me, I waited.

Coming down to the end of planning for this trip and getting to the place where it is time to close up the suitcases and get on the plane, I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed in my spirit. Wondering why I am the one about to go to a different country to meet new people and talk about my journey is common right now... along with the sheer terror. But someone that I met on the road to where I am now told me that they used to ask their kids, "Why not you?" I can no longer count the number of times that I have said this to myself, especially in the last week. Why not me? God called me. God has equipped me. God has provided for me. So why not me?

As I began to walk the quiet aisles of this church I do not know, the stained glass caught my attention. I've never paid much attention when the windows are far removed, off in the distance, casting colors but untouchable. But in this place... the window was close enough to touch. 

The jagged edges of the glass made me smile, calling to mind the rough places in me that God is still working on. It was as if he was whispering to me just how much he could do with someone willing, even if there were still imperfections being refined. 

The image created by the broken pieces of glass struck me, too. Purple has become a healing color in my life. I'm not sure exactly where it began, but seeing this amazing image of a purple butterfly was as welcome as the cool breeze that had greeted me when I stepped outside this morning. Recognizing the transformation represented by the butterfly, I spent several moments considering how the same has occurred in my own life... 

From the very beginning of this day, I have been sensing the liminality of the space in which I find myself. 

Tomorrow is the last day of this part of life. Tuesday morning, I begin a journey. I'm unsure what is on the other side of the threshold, and the uncertainty is scary. Throughout this day, though, I have found God in moments that have reminded me that he is with me on the journey. 

He's quietly waiting in places where I have known him before but been wary of because church hurt hits hard... and he is in countries where I have never been, waiting in the eyes of people who also are hurting. He is on both sides of this space and time, cheering me on and beckoning me forward.

For the last several years, I have laid claim to Psalm 73:26. Not because it excuses my weaknesses. Rather because it empowers me to survive them... and know that God can use even those. 

The butterfly from outside.

This weekend, I felt very much that my heart and my flesh were failing. But God showed up... and I'm forever grateful. 

This weekend, I went from seeing the stained glass from the outside to experiencing it in the sanctuary... and I am changed. 

The beauty inside.