I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple

I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don’t notice it.-- Alice Walker’s “Shug Avery” from The Color Purple

It rained really hard here today. Hail smacked the window, water eroded the soil around my sidewalk, and you could barely see through the sheaths of rain coming down. At one time, the winds were so high and fierce, the maple’s tree limbs were threatening to break and hit the house. The lights flickered and stopped this post for a few brief minutes, and it got so dark, I almost climbed back in bed.

I’m still tempted to do that...

But now the rain storm has passed. It’s lighter outside, they’re no swaying trees, and the sky has stopped all that loud clapping. Blake, my black lab, has settled down, and is actually napping. The birds have returned and I even see a couple of white butterflies. Everything outside looks well watered and refreshed. That’s the beauty of the rain storm after the storm.

But as I look out on the dripping trees and grass, I wonder what I missed in the moments of the storm. Did I fail to notice that as the wind was angrily blowing the tree’s limbs, the leaves seemed to cup the raindrops it caught? Did I miss the way the tree itself seemed to stand taller enjoying the bath it received after a hot and humid early morning?

And, why, when it was hot and muggy this morning, did I not pay attention to how it was effecting my body, that perhaps the humidity made my 2-mile walk longer and heavier and my mental capacity and mood sluggish and sulky? Perhaps that’s why I want to go back to bed.

Well, I know how I missed it. I was in a hurry to get it all over with – the rain, the walk, everything. I was also preoccupied with this on my mind and that thought over there. So, in my hurry and with my mind somewhere else, I know I missed many of the things God put here for us to see and appreciate.

I think God is not only disturbed that we don’t notice the flowers and the trees, God is probably also irritated when we don’t notice the beauty of and on the whole earth. We don’t hear the songs of the birds or the trickles of the water in the rain puddles. We miss the expressions on the faces we see each day; we miss being aware of our inner voice, and we especially miss taking notice of the real needs of those closest to us. We hear what’s on the surface and in the sound bites, living only on the surface and off the sound bites, leaving the sensing of the substance for the poets and the days when we’re forced to be still. If I were God I’d be pissed off. It can’t be easy making the daylilies’ blooms yellow, red, pink and purple. It’s certainly couldn’t have been simple to craft your personality and mine. And in no way is it an uncomplicated act to make a cold front meet a warm front and create a powerful storm and the sun still be shining through. Heck yeah, if I was God, I’d be so pissed I’d make everything dark so you couldn’t see anything.

But I’m not God and that ain’t God... Thank you, God.

Right now, the sun is out; I guess it’s really not a time for sleeping or missing what God’s got going on outside. I’m going out there to see what I can see. Don’t you miss it.