What color is the weekend?
Is it red with energy, passion, and life?
Is it brown from digging flowers and yard work?
Is it green with new possibility?
Or is it white with blank spaces, even silence?
What color is this day for you?
Would you chose a bold, beckoning blue?
Or a soft, subtle pink?
Or an orange of sunrise enjoyed slowly over a mug of coffee?
What color is your life right now?
Is it murky bluish black from uncertainty?
Is it a yellow of light slowly seeping from the corner of the canvass of life into the center?
Is it a blend of many different shades like the painting above?
No distinctive shape,
Yet beautiful nevertheless.
We color our lives and our days and this weekend like a child just given a fresh pack of crayons.
The moment when you open the box and the smell of untouched wax,
The pointed tips waving expectantly up at you,
The paper crisp.
We color our lives and our days and this weekend with something of the past too.
With crayons that have been well rounded to nubs,
The paper long ago hurriedly ripped off so we can continue,
The box lost long ago, so the crayons all sit piled up in a Tupperware container.
We color our lives and our days and this weekend,
The only question we prayerfully hold is,
Where do I start?
Amen.
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