If one says “Red” – the name of color –
and there are fifty people listening,
it can be expected that
there will be fifty reds in their minds.
And one can be sure that all these
reds will be very different.
Red is a fading sunset on the horizon.
It’s a burst of flame;
A spray of the fire leaping towards us.
It’s the heat of the warm afternoon.
It’s a flickering flame of a tiny candle.
It’s the spark able to spread the wildfire of love.
Red is the color of heat.
It’s full of passion.
For the word of the Lord is right and true; He is faithful in all He does. The Lord loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of His unfailing love. ~Psalm 33:4-5 ✝
Have you heard summer shout? Well it is and has been here; And its voice is red hot and full of fire.
Red. Red is a fading sunset on the horizon. It’s a burst of flame; A spray of the fire leaping towards us. It’s the heat of the warm afternoon. It’s a flickering flame of a tiny candle. It’s the spark able to spread the wildfire of love. Red is reverent, and it’s holy. Red is the color of heat. It’s full of passion. It’s bold. Red has the brawn of an ox, The skill of a pride of lions, And even the diligence of a colony of fire ants. It does not back down or grow weary. Red stands his ground firmly. It’s charming and romantic. Red is like a harvest of fresh raspberries: Satisfyingly and deliciously juicy. Red is optimistic. Red is the color of a rising dawn that glides across the morning sky and through the misty white clouds. It’s the hot August sun, beating down on your entire body, and filling you with warmth. ~Edited and adapted poem by Sunny Summers
I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. ~Ephesians 3:16-19 ✝
Crowfoot, chief of the Blackfoot Nation, once asked, “What is life?” He then answered his own question with haunting and graphic wisdom. He said, “it is the flash of the firefly in the night. It is the breath of the buffalo in wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.”
Life, that spark, that whispering breath of God over the void, grows faint in winter. Cloistered behind the grays and browns of gloomy veils, its glow, its hum, its buzz, pales and lowers, but as we near the vernal equinox, Eden’s heartbeat becomes a little more perceptible each day. It has been said that “God pours life into death and death into life without a drop being spilled,” and today I’ve discovered right here in my back yard that through dark, seemingly dead branches life into the lifeless has been poured again without any wasted spillage. It is on the trailing tendrils of a “Clematis armandii” vine that life has flowed silently and secretly until it could no longer be contained. As it burst forth into the newness you see in my photos, it is proof that the Holy One tends His Eden still. His divine, hidden forces of life have become tangibly visible, and a new spark has ignited a tiny flame. Soon a steady succession of similar sparks will fuel a blaze, a blaze that will spread like a wildfire lighting the world anew with evidence of God’s never-ending glory.
Who among all these does not know that the hand of the Lord has done this? In His hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of every human being. ~Job 12:9-10 ✝