“It was the first choir practice I’d led since my sister, Margaret, had been killed in a car accident. As we stood in the sanctuary that Saturday morning, my heart ached when I noticed her empty place in the middle row. She had such a rich, beautiful voice, and hearing her sing had always filled me with joy and set me aglow for the Lord. But now it was as if all the light and hope had been drained from my heart.
“With a sad sigh, I signaled the pianist and music filled the air. No one else had the heart to move into Margaret’s place, and I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her vacant spot, even as tears blurred my vision and I choked back sobs. Lord, how could you do this? I thought as I motioned the choir to begin. How can I feel joy without her here?
“In that exact moment, a brilliant ray of light shone through the stained-glass window, illuminating the exact spot where Margaret used to stand. I gasped and felt a slight shiver run down the length of my body. As I stared in awe, the choir kept on singing, raising their voices in glory to God. I stood silent as the light faded. “‘Was that okay?’ one of the women asked, oblivious to what I just saw. I looked out the window at the gray day. The sun wasn’t out at all. I realized the light was God’s gift to my broken heart, showing me that Margaret was still shining just as brightly as she always had. ‘It was beautiful,’ I replied with a smile, finally feeling at peace.”
—Kay Yager, 47, Waynesboro, PA