Yellow and Blue

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.