It’s an early morning drive, and I am all alone today. Glad for the quiet, I turn off the radio and
absorb the drone of my SUV’s mile-weary engine. Red-rimmed rooftops to my right
tell me the sun is coming up, but I’m in no hurry. I love the dawn, when hawks
claim the highest branches and cows make breakfast of stubble, their
silhouettes black weather vanes against an acid-wash sky. In a setting this tranquil, it’s hard to
believe that bad things happen, and I don’t want to see clearly just yet.
When the sun comes up, I’ll
remember a precious little boy who is undergoing chemo and waiting for a bone
marrow transplant. When the cows lift
their heads to watch their calves play, I’ll think of a coworker whose husband
lost his job without warning. When
shadows stretch across the road and quickly shrink again, I’ll think about a friend whose poor choice has forever changed his family’s life and the lives of
others who trusted him.
Stronger than my morning coffee, discouragement
sends a sharp pang through my heart. Lately,
it seems that the enemy’s presence spells defeat for God’s people as surely as
yellow and blue make green. However, as
the sky brightens, I realize all is not as dark as it seems. In the midst of hardship, I see that God has
been working in subtle, but profound ways, redirecting the focus of those whose
hearts have been distracted and bringing glory to Himself through the actions
of those who have remained faithful.
Through the little boy’s illness,
parents who actively proclaim the Gospel have had the chance to prove that
their faith is real. The job loss has
prompted discussion about “God things” and prayer in a secular workplace, and, though
the results of our friend’s poor choice haven’t been all positive, husbands and
wives everywhere are clinging more tightly to their marriages and families.
Topping the last hill of my commute,
I make a right turn toward the east and am met by a breath-taking sunrise. Just at the horizon, orange and yellow flash
together like facets of the same gem, kicking off the blue of night like last
night’s blanket. It’s the stark juxtaposition
of gold and blue that catches my attention.
No green. I thought yellow and
blue made green. Now, I’m sure that
there is some ridiculously simple scientific reason that yellow and blue don’t
make green in the sky, but God used the image to remind me once again that He
is in charge.
As Creator, God gets to paint the
sky any color He wants. As Sovereign
Lord, He is able to work all things together for our good and His glory, no matter the circumstances. Even when things don’t go the way we think
they should, even when it seems that the enemy will overtake and defeat us, we
can rest in God's infinite wisdom and power and love.
He is more faithful than the sunrise, which means yellow and blue
don’t always make green.
