When God couldn't get an answer at my door... He came to my window as a storm; I heard His thunder-clap loud as a trumpet blast, but I would not give in to Him... least not over half. 

You are the rain Lord rapping againsr my sash; so I press my face onto the pane when I feel blue. (a sigh) Together we have both shed so many splattered tears, making stained etchings in the glass... and icy chill against my cheek; with remiss of many wasted years, with things left incomplete... You suddenly turn from rain- into sleet.

 But... but this too shall pass; the way I feel, like a bruised reed or smoldering flax... will be cause for my break through, to quench this pain I have amassed... I will put my faith un Christ !

I will be made whole, as all my failures are shattered like my tear stained glass !!!