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My favorite song growing up was “Flowers are Red” by Harry Chapin. It’s a folk song that tells the story of a little boy’s first day of school. The boy was found by his teacher painting with many colors. The disapproving teacher told him, “Flowers are red, young man, and green leaves are green. There’s no need to see flowers any other way than the way they always have been seen.” Without missing a beat the little boy replies, “There are so many colors in the rainbow, so many colors in morning sun, so many colors in the flower. And I see every one.” The ancestral teacher attempted again to have him see it her way. She repeated her motto, but he in turn responded with his. After repeating this the teacher put him in a corner saying it was for his own good. The boy got lonely and eventually he timidly went up to the teacher and said, “Flowers are red and green leaves and green. There’s no need to see flowers any other way than the way they always have been seen.”

Time goes by and the boy goes to another school. The new teacher was happy to see him. She greeted him with an invitation to paint using all the colors. But the boy could only paint neat rows of green and red. When the open-minded teacher asked him why he was only using red and green he responded with, “Flowers are red and green leaves are green. There’s no need to see flowers any other way than the way they always have been seen.”

There’s a lesson at the end of the song when Harry says there still must be a way to have our children to say, “There are so many colors in the rainbow, so many colors in the morning sun, so many colors in the flower. And I see every one!”
 
 

I remember our first day of ministry on the Race. Our team got dropped off in Buriram, Thailand at 3:30 in the morning and our host, Roger, greeted us with good and bad news. Good news: we were finally there. Bad news: we would be leaving to teach English in 4 hours. I am not a teacher. I don’t like to be ordered and controlled with kids. Teaching just isn’t my thing. This dread came upon me one month later. During our weeks locked up in a Cambodian orphanage (true story – just sounds worse than it was.) we taught English from morning till evening. My girls knew I didn’t like teaching but I didn’t choose the easy out. I had to remind them that even though teaching wasn’t my thing I needed to participate and be willing. I needed to be stretched and try new things. Turned out I could be the encouraging assistant teacher and/or group game leader. I was good at that!

I’ve learned many things this year and been a part of unique services to the Lord – some of which I wasn’t eager to jump into at first. I prayed for the people on the streets of China, shared about cults at a college in Cape Town, cleaned and served the poor and hungry in Africa. I spoke in churches or Bible studies, hung out with prisoners and drug addicts. I even got a chance to plant corn in Nicaragua. I’ve held babies and gotten peed on. I’ve reached out my hands to care and nearly gotten bitten. I’ve loved selflessly without receiving anything in return. I’ve gone around the world with the authority and love of Christ and have been blessed tremendously! (…more than I’ll ever now how to put into words.)
 
 

I really was blessed to end this year off by painting a mural for our hosts. After months of giving and giving and heeding to the wills and wishes of others I was able to do something I love. With Isaiah 40:31 given at the host’s request I set up a design and was ready. It ended up being our main task one of our last days of “minstry.” It was a special day when every one joined in even though they weren’t “artists.” I appreciated their willingness to tag along in my joy and passion. It was so good for me to end with a personal blessing from Daddy. He’s heard my prayers and knows my heart. He lets me paint with all the colors of the rainbow!
 
 

do what you love. love what you do.