lessons from a pencil box

I realized the other day that I have a lot to learn from the colored pencils I keep in a simple plastic box to use with my mandala coloring books.

I watch as those colored pencils make a dramatic difference on the pages as I color, yet they seem to lose little if anything of themselves. The various colors make the page come alive, but I only have to sharpen them occasionally. I need to remember that the next time I’m faced with the opportunity to make someone else’s world a little brighter. Do I moan and complain about what a sacrifice it is, how it drains me? Or do I follow the example of the colored pencil and quietly apply myself to the situation and give that little bit that makes such a difference? And when I truly have given a lot and have become dull and unable to make that difference, I can head to the one place that will bring me to the point where I can once again give – God. God is the one place where I know I will be nourished and strengthened to once again be able to share the beauty of God’s love.

Then I started thinking that if I was a colored pencil, what color would I be? I decided I would be red-orange. The blend of the two colors keeps either one from being too much – too hot, too bold, too “in your face”. Yet it’s still warm and comforting. And it works well with the other colors, often drawing out undertones that might be otherwise overlooked.

As I thought more about it, I came to realize that at various times in my life – sometimes in the course of a single day! – I have been many of these colors.

The barely-there peach that relieves the blandness of a blank page, though often only if you look closely. But that peach can sometimes be so light that you can’t see the missed spots, or opportunities, until you look back at the page from a different angle.

Bold red? Oh yes, I’ve been that hot color, on the verge of too much, demanding attention, upset if things don’t go the way I think they should have.

How about purple? Certainly. From soft gentle shades that comfort, to attention getting violet, capable of showing beauty in unexpected places like my beloved wild violets.

Orange? With the ability to warm, but harsh and jarring if used with too heavy a hand, I’ve been that one as well.

Thankfully I can also say I’ve been the calming, soothing greens of plants and trees; the inspiring blues of sky and sea; the sturdy, grounding browns.

Yet, I’ve also been white, the absence of color. Literally just occupying space without contributing anything. So too, the grays and blacks that represent the stormy unsettled times. Regretfully sometimes so intense I managed to blot out the colors of those around me.

Fortunately, I now recognize those times when my mood/attitude veers toward those harsher tones. My prayer is that I will remain aware and always strive to be my orange-red — warm, comforting, able to work well with others and bring out the best in them, things that might have been overlooked before…

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