I find myself greeting the sun a lot these days, and I began pondering the different colors found in those intimate moments, because, let’s face it, no matter who is sitting or slumbering beside you, in that magical hour as the sun rises, you are, mostly in true intimacy with your God.
I love that time, those moments of quiet (mostly) solitude. I anticipate the burnt sienna, the cotton candy pinks, the Mandarin oranges that will soon streak across the sky. But you know those anticipations, those are simply temptations. My heart already dances at the purples spread before me.
“Purple” seems such an insignificant word. These skies are not merely purple like Barney the dancing dinosaur (Every parent in America is groaning right now.). No, these colors are straight from God’s own Crayola box. There’s the deep velvet of Chambord, then the subtler crocus poking it’s small face through the spring snow, fading into the beautiful bloom of a late violet, until finally the sky dissolves through the barely blue hydrangea. And do know the brilliant, perfect thing? Every night, twilight happens in the reverse. Now, my friend, that has to mean something.
Why do I love this time so much? Simply, purple is the color of love. It’s the promise of Forgiveness as the sun fades low on the horizon, and the seal and renewal of that promise the moment God spins the Earth around to face our sun again. It’s a reminder that we are told to forgive as we are forgiven, and that it isn’t our job to make sure the ones wronged accept the pleas of apologies.
I believe in holding the ones who need to be held, in loving those that need to be loved. But here’s the rub, we all fit in those categories, every moment of every day – on both sides of the coin. Some of us are vocal, some of us are silent, but we are all walking in some shade of purple. It’s time to let the magnificent shades of purple glorify the Creator of them.
The Unexpected Life 