In this series of prints, I hope to remind the viewer that blessings and hardship can be intermingled in unexpected ways. I began with a brand new windshield from a 1988 Chrysler Lebaron. I smashed the windshield over and over with a sledge hammer until it was wrecked. The broken windshield represents the tragedy, in Isaiah’s life the windshield is the sin and suffering of the Israelites. I took the windshield into a blackened darkroom and shined various colors of light through it—as if the windshield had been transformed into a stained-glass window. (The complete darkness of the room requires the artist to be attentive to her senses—particularly when navigating in and around a large piece of shattered glass.) Light has this remarkable quality of being invisible, but illuminating everything that it falls upon; likewise, I’m hoping to make the parallel that God can only be sensed when he illuminates us. In Isaiah’s narrative, this light represents the vision of God which called to him and authentically changed his direction in life. Both the broken windshield and the stained glass are camouflaged by the resulting piece of artwork, but there is evidence of fragmentation within what I hope is a piece of artwork that would not have the same aesthetic value without the full range of color and texture and the same attention to the sensory subtleties of my experience in the darkroom. Likewise, our lives are perhaps incomplete with the unique lived experience of a host of experiences—good and bad—and our acute sensing (within each experience) of God’s sensory guidance.