Faith

Collecting Colors

Sep 28, 2024

I saw a “prism” in the sky yesterday. In between the bustling of soccer games, and family’s in town, and I can’t find my glasses again, I saw a burst of color. Vivid—like a diamond rainbow without rain—a scientific wonder exposing itself just because it could. It made me question how many times I’ve missed living in the warmth that color brings, so wrapped up in the black and white of my past or the grey uncertainties of my tomorrows. Somewhere between the unknowns and the stresses of this Western world lies another option—a whispering plea for presence. I hear it every now and then, God’s gentle nudge beckoning me toward peace and relief. Sometimes I ignore it and take another shot of espresso. Not yesterday. Not today either. I want to be someone on the go, willing to work, adaptable and focused. And I want to be a woman worth trusting, unflinchingly present and in tune with those I love, those I don’t, and those who are hurting.

To see and to relish. To find the color of life and to add my own.

To kiss my five-year-old-daughter back—right on the lips—even though she’s eating a juicy strawberry and it’s running down her chin, and even though I’m working. There it is: color. A new manuscript emerging from somewhere whimsical within me, a better draft than the one before. Color. My oldest asking me to play volleyball again, because she wants to try out for the school’s team next year. So, I leave the laundry unfolded and I dive and hit the ball and we laugh and bond. The bruises on my arm and the way she smiles at me in the sunlight: color.

A plant thriving on my floating shelves, teeming with yellows, greens, and reds—a sweet gift from my aunt while shopping together, for no other reason than she noticed how much I liked it. The neighbors asking to see Zoey more because their dog just passed away and they hate the stale silence that follows the death of a loved one. So, we say “yes” and make homemade cards and baked goods—building a faded rainbow inside of a dim corner. Hitting “send” on an email even though I’m afraid of the outcome. The company of my parents, and Paul’s birthday. Color. Color. Color.

Of all the things to fret about in life—and there are many—I’m grateful for the opportunity to notice them at all. To acknowledge their impact and to return to the whitespace when I can. Back to Jesus. There will always be harsh light and enveloping shadows and there will always be a spiritual call to contentment, especially in the midst of those dark seasons. To collect colors where we can. To keep looking up.

Sep 28, 2024 | Faith