Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
No harm will overtake you,
no disaster will come near your tent.

— Psalm 91: 1, 10

I do not like cracks. That is why I hate spiders. Their legs and their backs look like giant cracks, and I don’t want to see something broken. Because broken means shifting. Shifting means change. And I, probably of an earth descent, don’t like change. Not too much.

So when I recognize the giant cracks in our 25-year old house, I shudder. I get small anxieties. I hate it. Even my room has a large crack by the doorway. And cracks speak much. Cracks tell that this house should no longer be lived in. Cracks tell that the ground has slowly moved and our floors are not aligned and that, at any moment, it may give in.

Cracks tell bad news.

But these cracks tell me good news. These cracks, piercing our walls from the ceiling about five years ago, say that some Big, Invisible Hand has held on the gaps and kept it in place. The massive aperture by the garage, enough for a mouse to get through, only spoke of that Kind, Steady Arm that balances our house as the car parks through. Our house, in a slow state of giving up and giving in, is invisibly held by a Great Someone whom we have dedicated our lives to. He’s here’ And from these cracks, I know He’s not just a guest, but an Active Part of the Family. He’s in our walls. He’s in our floors. He’s in our ceilings.

And right now, as the terrible monsoon rages through our water-swept streets, He has decided to keep us all in, safe in place, inside this crack-filled home, where His presence shines through.
Cracks are where the Light Shines Through.