Tuesday, October 8, 2013

A Mosaic

The church I grew up in as a kid still sits on the corner of Eighth and Hickory in the bigger town that grew up and around the small town I remember. 

Renovations over the years, but essentially the same.  Enormous.  Castle-like.  Gray stone.  Tall steeple.  Almost, but not quite foreboding.   Still has the feel of something out of the Middle Ages.  One would almost expect knights with shields and swords and spears or crossbows manning the turrets.  Didn’t have a moat though.  That would have been pretty cool.

The inside was my favorite part of the church.  Smelled faintly of incense.  Pews of dark wood.  Kneelers allegedly padded.  Not so much for the very young or the elderly, though.  At least it didn’t feel that way back then.  Not so much now either.

Loved the little votive candles.  Flame dancing within dark red glass.  Peaceful.  Hypnotizing.

Love the stained glass windows.  There were four huge windows.  When the sun would hit them just right, rays of red and green and blue and yellow reflected down on us.  Sacred.  Awe inspiring.

I wondered how painstakingly long it would take to fashion the small parts of the colored glass to fit the story, the picture.  Each one assembled just right to shape the figures, to create the scene. The mind of the artist . . . incomprehensible to me.  Not having that talent.  None whatsoever.  Only the talent to marvel at the beauty, to enjoy, and to marvel at the talent of the artist, the mind of the artist.

Each piece, each part fitting perfectly.  One as important as the next.  One no more important than the other.  Created in the mind of the artist, in the artist’s eye for each of us to enjoy.

And . . . each of us, you and I, are parts and pieces of stained glass . . . A Mosaic.  A Mosaic called Life.

Each of us, each other, you and I, as important to the whole as . . . well, the next one of us.  Doesn’t matter who, yet each who matters.  Each of us playing a part . . . a role in this Mosaic.

Our role . . . our part in the stained glass of life . . . A Mosaic . . . of life.  No part bigger.  No part smaller.  One as important as the next.  Created in the Artist’s eye for each of us . . . for each of
us . . . to enjoy.  To be a part of.  To be a member of.  Something to think about . . .

 Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!


  1. Thank you for a wonderful piece and sentiments! So very well said.

  2. Thank you, James. I appreciate it. Joe


Thank you for your comment. I welcome your thought. Joe