A Gray Day

I’m not very good with colors, they say, but from where I’m sitting on the westbound Empire Builder it’s a quite a gray day. The sun rose at 8:34 AM where I was. It didn’t make a big deal out of the whole thing. There were no breathtaking, flashy streaks of red and pink, reflecting off clouds in a dazzling display of the creator’s glory. There was nothing in the view that would make one want to raise your hands and shout “this is the day that the Lord has made -“. The day just sorta snuck in, not changing much from the dim, cloud filtered predawn light. It’s a black-and-white kind of day.

Okay, I’m exaggerating a bit. The fields we are zipping past are dressed in their dormant tan and browns waiting to burst into shades of spring greens in a few months. And there are patches of blue sky poking through the clouds, reminding us of more colors to come. Not to mention, the occasional red barn, yellow house and black angus that appear from time to time, along with the Christmas decorations and lights popping up in towns along the tracks.

Alright, alright… and let’s not forget the folks whose lives intersect our own. Be they family, friends or fellow passengers on the train. In some way they all color our experiences by being who they are. In some ways they or we can be gifts from the One who made the day. A gray dreary day? On the surface, maybe, but not really. Not when it is, indeed, “… the day that the Lord has made…” and we see it as today’s gift.

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