Life (God) sometimes chooses to paint with colour. Why do we fight so hard for the black and the white?

May I rejoice in the colour of every day, instead of railing at the way my traditional ideas and before-determined plans go awry!

Intersections of our lives

This story spins out of a vision my friend Grant had. Forgive me for sharing it in my words, Grant, but your vision speaks to me too. So here is what I saw as you spoke...

I had come to an intersection. I pulled out my map as I stood in the centre, surrounded by busy, purposeful, moving single-hued people going in every direction. As I peered at the map, the names on the map grew fuzzy and I stared blankly at it. What use is this, I thought. Everyone else seems to know where they are going!  At least I know where I came from, but no (turning to look back), that road is closed now. I can't go back that way. What do I do now?

And I stood in the midst of the busy, purposeful, moving single-hued people hurrying past me. And looked around.

There were buildings on the sides of the roads that met where I stood, shops, a post office, and look, a small cafe with tables outside. Now what? 

As I slowly spun and surveyed the intersection, a slight movement drew me back to the cafe. A small wave? I refocused and saw Him sitting there, two cups in front of Him, a newspaper, and an empty chair, as though He had been sitting and waiting for someone. Me? I questioned, lifting my shoulders. He nodded, and beckoned. So I dropped my useless fuzzy map in the midst of the busy, purposeful, moving single-hued people and walked over to sit in the chair next to Him.

"I've been waiting for you," He said, "Flat white?" and I nodded and saw that the second cup was a steaming hot flat white coffee, just the way I like it, with a small biscotti on the side. I dipped and crunched with satisfation.

And then we sat back and He asked me how I was doing, and we caught up on life, on journeys, talked about family and friends and adventure and us, and me. And when we had talked it all out and had reached the easy stage of two friends sipping the last of their coffee, I stretched, stood, and He stood too. He embraced me, tucked a small bag of those biscotti into one hand, and I stepped back into the intersection, the only one wearing colour in the midst of the busy, purposeful, moving single-hued people.

And then I saw her. She came up one of the roads that led to the intersection. She was walking towards me in colour and with purpose. And suddenly I knew why I had been waiting, although I did not know before that I was waiting, or that I was waiting for her. Or that we would walk together.

And I heard a Voice behind me saying: "This is the Way, walk in it."

And THEN, I started to walk again, with purpose.