Glancing out the window, I smiled as the rainclouds made way for the sun. One tiny droplet caught my eye as it clung to the bottom of the deck rail, refusing to surrender to gravity’s pull. The perfectionist in me wished it would let go so the sun could finish transforming my soggy view into dry and warm.
But then I shifted in my chair, ever so slightly, and that stubborn globule became a story of God’s creative handiwork. The sun had caught that one little pendant and turned it into such intense brilliance I could barely look at it. If I moved my head in different angles I could see yellows … or blues … or oranges and reds that looked like a little flicker of fire.
My discovery of this fiery little bead caused me to ponder God’s creation of the world in a new way. The first thing He spoke to the formless void was, “Let there be light!” Never before had I considered that light meant color – brilliant and captivating, dazzling and ever fluctuating.
Soon implications from other lessons began to illumine my soul.
• When Jesus came to be the light of the world (John 8:12), it wasn’t just to dispel darkness – though that is very true. He also came to fill our lives with sparkling, variant beauty.
• When He said, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16, NKJV), that light is not just a dull glow – it’s our own unique flaming hue.
• Recalling eighth grade science, I remember that for light to refract into a rainbow, the object receiving the light must be transparent. Praise God the blood of Jesus has washed us clean!
• Like the lone drop on my deck rail, sometimes we have to hang in there until the storm clears and the sun reappears. It’s at these delicate moments God shines through us in ways that overwhelm, transform, and invite wonder.
I’m so glad I waited and watched that annoying little drop. All I needed to do was make a slight change in my perspective to catch the twinkle in God’s eye. Suddenly I longed to linger, begging the sun to stand still and the dangling jewel to brighten my world a little longer.
©Cheri Johnson July 2016