Pink

If we don't find Him in the small things, how will we ever find Him in the big ones?  ~Elisabeth Elliot 

 Eliana, come look!

I call to her from my seemingly perpetual post at the kitchen sink.

And she's heard this summons before, at this same hour, so she gasps and jumps to her feet, long legs and long braids flying.

I wipe my hands and bend to lift her, legs and braids and all to my hip so she can reach the window.

And as always, she looks past blurry glass and over power lines and chicken coops and big white barn and sees...

Oh, just for me, right Mama?

And I nod and nuzzle her soft cheek with my nose and look long.

Pink, she breathes. The setting sun has lent a pink shawl to the mountains, slow blush creeping up her high peaks.

We've told her that He sends pink in the sky just for her, knowing (for He knows all things!) how very much she loves that color.

And she claims the gift and delights in it whenever she can. He sent the pink, just for me! she marvels again and again.

Because, didn't He?

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.   James 1:17

And when my arms tire and I shift to lower her, she reaches for the window and plants a kiss on it for the sunset, turns green eyes heavenward for Him and says, Thank you, God!

And this is how I see today. Through streaky glass, over power lines, past smelly chicken coops, peeling paint on neighbor's old barn... through the pink sky and right into the Heart that loves my girl so much, He sends the pink just for her.

Hands full of suds and heart full of girl, I turn to my work and thank Him for fresh perspective.

And claim the gift of eyes drawn up and out.

Pink is my favorite color, too.

a favorite repost from the archives