The Northern Lights

No blue sky, no purple flowers. I imagine a world where colors do not exist. The beautifully colored rooster with shiny turquoise tail feathers in my backyard who enjoys terrorizing us from time to time is nothing but a gray scale grump. My favorite movie has no visual depth and my watercolor palette and embroidery floss all fade gently into different versions of blah. I only adjust my vision to a scale somewhere between black and white, immediately coating hues that dare differ in a thick layer of gray. Dreary is not even a word because there is no other option. The flat charcoal smudge appearance of the world is my normal. My sight adjusts so that anything outside of gray would be overwhelming to my senses.

Or would it be a welcome sight?

​Another world exists inside my mind where I reside amongst the Northern Lights. I see the vast array of colors that outshine anything I can imagine. Blues and purples meld into pinks, greens, and yellows. Black only exists to show off their brilliance, and I see nothing but the beautiful explosion of color as I float among its rays. To be snatched out of that spectacular array of hues and plopped into the world of no color would feel abrupt and punishing.

Or would I bask in the peace of the soft light and the gentle, welcome simplicity?

These two worlds and many combinations of the two exist in the people around me. Many are dark and brooding or simple and uncomplicated. While others are vibrant and emotionally charged or creative and constantly changing. For some, the gray scale world would bring comfort, while others would find it stifling and subdued. Living amongst the Northern lights for some would feel overwhelming and abrasive, while others would feel energized and elated.

I’m somewhere in the middle. Thriving in peaceful simplicity, deep contemplative conversations, broody rainy days, and the beauty of black pen doodles on a stark white background. I also crave the beauty of creativity, constant change, vibrancy, and energetic ideas being bounced between colleagues and friends.

There are those that are so committed to only one of these worlds, only one end of the spectrum or the other that they can’t even see the view of the other side.

If you don’t know the Northern Lights exist, how can you know their beauty? If you live inside the Northern Lights, how can you understand the joy that a simple, black, starry night produces? Both are equally created by God. Both are equally beautiful. Yet if you only ever experience one, you cannot comprehend the other.  

My goal is to walk in a love of both worlds. Mind you, not the darkness that the enemy brings. That is another conversation altogether. No, I’m talking about the full existence that God created for us to love. From the dung beetle to the farthest galaxy and all creation in between. We each have our beauty, we each have our purpose, and we are each loved by Him. 

I pray to never get so complacent in my surroundings and assumptions that I forget that someone from a different place with unique experiences is equally loved and called. It’s love—not rocket science. But sometimes, I’m not sure which is harder.