The Parchment Sewn Into the Coat

On the night of November 23, 1654, Blaise Pascal — the brilliant French mathematician who had calculated the weight of air and invented the mechanical calculator — encountered something his equations could never contain. For two hours, alone in his room, he experienced what he could only describe as "Fire." He grabbed a piece of parchment and scrawled words that tumbled out in fragments: "God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob — not of the philosophers and scholars. Certitude. Joy. Peace. God of Jesus Christ."

When the experience ended, Pascal did something remarkable. He carefully sewed that parchment into the lining of his coat. He transferred it to every coat he wore for the remaining eight years of his life. It was discovered only after his death, worn soft from years pressed against his chest.

Pascal understood what Peter did not quite grasp on the Mount of Transfiguration. When Peter saw the glory of Christ blazing before him, he wanted to build shelters and stay forever in that radiant moment. But the voice of the Almighty cut through the cloud with different instructions: "This is my Son, whom I have chosen; listen to Him." Then they came back down the mountain — into crowds, confusion, and the long road toward Jerusalem.

The glory was never meant to be captured in a shelter. It was meant to be sewn into the lining of your life — carried close, hidden but real, sustaining you through every ordinary and agonizing step that follows.