Monday night at 1am I opened a fresh pack of crayons and grabbed my son’s Mickey Mouse coloring book and commenced to coloring. Whenever I find myself troubled or anxious I find the most therapeutic things for me to do is color. I love it. As I color I think about my life, problems, things that I’m trying to work through and things of that nature. Usually I will hit the dollar store up for a coloring book because the pictures are simple, and that allows me plenty of space artistically to expound as I see necessary. I remember that night I was kind of ticked off because this coloring book was a Disney coloring book. Now you maybe saying to yourself, “So what.” But as a coloring conessuier I can tell you that makes a huge difference. Because now instead of having space I am limited in my expression to the image that has already been established for over 50 years. One moment in particular sticks out to me, when I accidentally colored Mickey’s shoes the wrong color. #Devastated. I felt I had done a great injustice to the Disney universe. With that brown crayon in my hand, and sorrow in my heart I simply shook my head in dismay and turned to the next page.
As I searched for my next coloring conquest I started thinking about the colors in that Crayola box. It wasn’t their fault for being the color they were, that’s just how they were made. I started thinking about the colors that never get used like fuchsia, and pewter, and yellow green. I felt sorry for those guys. Then I started thinking about God. The great Artist, whose canvas is the universe. Even when I use the wrong colors in my life, God uses my mistakes to make masterpieces.