The Blessing of Colors

Colors keep calling me.

It started on Easter Eve when I picked up a crayon left over from egg decorating. I was delighted to see macaroni and cheese printed on the side of the appropriately-named wax stick. And the tiny bottles of brightly-colored egg dye – my sister-in-law making patterned rows of them - pink, yellow, purple, blue . . . pink, yellow, purple, blue.

The next morning during Easter worship service, I was struck by the sea of colors around me. Men in black raspberry shirts. One with a lilac tie. Another with a sky blue shirt. And the ladies – color everywhere! Lime sherbet dresses, peach parfait sweaters, turquoise tops. I couldn’t help myself – I kept naming hue after beautiful hue.

It didn’t stop the next day. I opened my closet and saw two new tops with the tags still on – I read Rose of Sharon on the peachy one and Chateau Rose on the pinkish. Looking out the window, my eye caught the incredibly rich green of the rye in the garden. And when I stopped to observe the mourning dove on the transom ledge, I was struck by her ebony eyeball ringed with periwinkle blue.

Why are colors striking me lately? I don’t know; I still haven’t figured that out. All I know is that I find myself praising God for the magnificent spectrum of colors He’s created.

I think that’s a good enough reason.

(Photo: An early Mother's Day gift from the boys.)