This week the first of the camellias popped open—bright pink, lacy flowers that cluster among the satiny green leaves. They joined the daffodils who already stand like trumpeters along a parade route, their cheery yellow petals little bursts of sun around the yard.
I’m in love with color—everywhere it appears. And what’s more 
important, I believe God loves color, too.
When on the third day of creation God blessed the earth with trees, and every kind of seed, and herbs, He looked upon His handiwork and saw that it was good. Fruits and vegetables, flowers and bushes all joined together to give a barren earth a rainbow of hues. When I admire a rare parrot, a flower with a variegated center, a mountain peak covered with trees, rocks and snow, I sense God’s love of beauty. Why else would he say in Luke 12:27 (NIV): “Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.”
When my daughter first decided on a color for her room—a deep, blue-green shade of teal— I remained cautiously optimistic. What colors would accent it? Could we find accessories? I needn’t have worried. With window casings trimmed in bright white, the teal tint exploded from the walls. Her readymade bedspread came accented with panels of peach and fuchsia. Framed prints held patches of teal-colored sky, smiling girls in frocks of teal paisley, and flowers all arrayed in the blue-green shades. The result—glorious color.
I’ve admired portraits in sepia tones—there’s a wide scope of shades within the bronzing of the subject. But without color that world seems stalled, stuck in time. I’ve known a few individuals who are color blind, some not seeing a certain shade, and others missing the entire spectrum. Imagine going outside and everything was black and white. Hues would play out as grays. No green in the trees, no blues in the sky, no riot of tints among the flowers. Just thinking about such a world is depressing.
God knew that. He wanted his creation to worship him. By painting our landscape, He knew he could get us to look up and around at our world and with our uplifted eyes, see Him in the midst of the picture. And in seeing, give thanks.
Is it any wonder the psalmist wrote of his awe of a God who created our world? Psalm 26:7 (KJV): “That I may publish with the voice of thanksgiving, and tell of all your wondrous works.”
Thank God for coloring your world.
Our heavenly Father is THE master gardener!
Absolutely. No one can do it better.