Why “color matters” on Independence Day
On a hot July night, we’re out with our Amish friends. Covid has kept us from our evenings in town for dinner and shopping, and it’s been months. We’re finally catching up.
Returning with them to their home, we step out of the air-conditioned van into the simmering evening heat. The sun is setting, and to the west I see this lovely pastoral scene. It’s the house where their son, an Amish bishop, and his family live.
In the sky above, the clouds are tinged with orange, peach, and yellow. The green of the grass, the black of the cow and the family-sized buggy, and the sparkling white of the buildings make the loveliest country landscape.
I pause there in silence and take it in. For in the serenity of this scene, I can feel the presence of God. And it moves my heart to worship.
Colors. God’s creation. The Fourth of July and independence. The red, the white, and the blue.
For years now, my mantra has been, “Color matters!” Countless times, I have chirped it merrily to my husband, “Color matters!” And always, I get the reaction I want. He rolls his eyes, showing the whites, and always, I laugh right out loud.
“Color matters!” when I’m choosing orange shoes. “Color matters!” when I pick a yellow jacket. “Color matters!” when I’m choosing brightest red for the door. Yes, I know that color matters.
As my country is being torn apart over matters of color and race, what I know is this–that just as the colors in nature speak to me of Creator God, just so the colors of my fellow human beings speak to me of Creator God. And it moves me to worship! To praise.
Just as God has painted the blue in our spacious skies, and just as He has colored the wheat fields golden across the fruited plains. Just as He has shaded the mountains in dark, then darker greens, and just as His hand has tinted the ocean from clear to aqua to turquoise and navy, just so He has colored us, too.
Here in my midwestern home, I, a small, white mother in America, give Him thanks. From the blackest of skin to the palest, you are my fellow Americans. I see your colors, and I am in awe. I see your faces, and I feel the longing of His heart for you.
No matter what our backgrounds, races, religions, or stories, these two things remain true–God Himself’s our Creator, and we are all Americans.
With prayers for my country, I wish you a Happy Independence Day!
Rhonda