Life is full of uncertainties. It’s full of unanswered questions and wondering. It’s also full of opportunities. We’re left with a choice, then. To wonder, or to stop wondering. To ask, or to stop asking. To seek, or to stop seeking. Each one of us has been blessed with a chance to make that choice. What will be yours?
The seams of the world were somehow spun;
Somehow in the sky sits suspended the sun.
In a miraculous way my life was begun;
I was born with feet to stand and to run.
Each day I awake as sure as summer comes,
There are monsters in life that I’ll want to flee from;
I’ll escape many but be captured by some.
While certain battles rage, still others are done,
And despite the fact that I’m a wandering son,
I’ve yet to stop wondering, so I’ve won.
Sometimes doors are slammed in my face,
I sometimes stumble at the gun of the race,
The world is the hare and I the snail’s pace,
I’m left all alone without even a trace.
There are times when I’m left with a bitter taste,
And places I’m surrounded by rubble and waste,
But there are also times when that’s not the case,
For often I find joy in the quiet place.
And many times I see my fears erased
Because I still ask, and because there’s still grace.
My questions are answered in countless ways,
Even when overwhelmed by pressing haze;
I march on with confidence, assured and unfazed,
Preparing not to be shut down, but amazed.
I still endure when the skies are grey,
And even when my path for life seems to stray;
I know that the Lord will not delay,
He’ll whisk me away to heaven one day,
For I know He answers those that pray,
And those that seek Him, always.
Life is a ceaseless swirl of color. There are brilliant tapestries; there are ebony evenings; and everything imaginable, and unimaginable, blurs in between.
We begin in the black, enclosed by the womb, unaware of what awaits outside. And then, in an instant, we’re born into a world of color. Light permeates our eyes for the first time, but certainly not for the last. As a bright red balloon we’re taken by invisible winds up to the heights of cyan skies and we look out on the world below.
Colors gain new meaning as we grow into the shades and hues that twist and splatter this world. In awe we discover striking bursts of new color. We’re taken aback by both the serenity of some and the harshness of others. We marvel at navy nights and gape at orange ocean sunsets. Yet we’re appalled by smoky skies and shocked by brick-red blood.
Sometimes we struggle to take in all the rainbows the world throws at us. For a while we’re consumed by it; we can’t get enough of it. But just as youth fades, so does our fascination with the colors around us. Emeralds and ivies reduce to green. Lavender and lilac become simply purple. We grow bored with the world of color.
We construct these cathedrals of stained-glass windows in which we attempt to capture all luminosity. Then we snap photographs of the pigments and colorants that we’ve come to feel some mastery over. Nature is no longer good enough. Everything is hazy and bleak. Life becomes monotonous, and grey is the prominent overtone.
But then, we’re struck. Struck by that unsuspecting flash of immaculate light. And in that moment, our sight is revived of its cynicism. Our eyes are again opened to the beauty that surrounds us. Our lens on life shifts significantly and so does our vision of the world. It doesn’t matter what hits us; when we’re hit, we’re hit. And we only realize it when we open our eyes and again see the radiance that we once used to see. Blues return to azures and ceruleans. Reds return to crimsons and rubies. They’re even more breath taking than before.
Colors shine like we’ve never seen. They burst from unexpected places and they glow from previously dim sources. Because now, our eyes are open. We perceive the world, those around us, and ourselves differently… with more brilliance.
Vision again gains that zealous significance and we can’t absorb enough of the color. Our eyes light our hearts with the glorious hues that we ingest so eagerly. Even our darkest places are lit by those pressing lights that yearn to inhabit every remaining corner of isolation and colorless despair. Let the colors come.
Regardless of where you are in life; whether you’re blown away by all the hues; whether you’re overwhelmed by the lack thereof; or whether you’re rediscovering the whimsical beauty of each uniquely concocted color: let the colors come.
Let the colors come.