The Official Color of Joy
Sunbeam and moonlight, lemon and butter, sunflower and daffodil, honey and butterscotch; all are variegated casts of my very favorite color. Arguably, its richest shade is the earthy brilliance of early October aspen leaves, when God dips His brush into the same pot He used to paint the streets of heaven and strokes it across the landscape.
Culturally, the color yellow has carried many negative connotations like cowardice, jealously, greed and shame. But one look at the sun or moon or flowers or foliage will tell you that God purposed yellow to be brave. Bold. Warm. Kind.
Yellow is more than a color, too. It’s the blossom in your heart when you walk into a house full of people you love and the rumble in your belly when you catch a whiff of pot roast. It’s the crackle in the fireplace and the blessing before a meal. It’s the way a hug feels and the Holy Spirit whispers.
I try to absorb as much yellow as I can, cuddling the Prater pups on the porch each morning while murmuring my prayers into the palomino sunrise. I plan our annual vacation to capture the leaves turning gold-copper-rust, like a wildfire blazing across the Rockies. I fling pops of color like gilded confetti throughout my home to warm my otherwise neutral décor. Even the palette for The Holy Shift reflects my yearning for yellow.
Yellow seems less like a color and more like a feeling or a flavor, more like a promise or a prayer, more like the official color of joy.
Christine Chandler Prater
If yellow were a season, it would be fall. Winter is blanketed by ash and iron. Spring is crowned in emerald and lavender. And summer sizzles so white-hot and electric-blue, it’s garish. But fall is gentle. Fall is yellow.
Fall not only hosts the best hues, it boasts the best flavors; earthy pumpkin, smoky chili, peppery stew, zesty bay leaves, tangy ginger. Fall is soothing and savory, both bitter and buttery, bursting on your tongue like gratitude. Oh, how I love the bliss of banana bread and the cinnamon-cloved promise of Christmas!
Fall feels like the gentlest of the faith seasons, too. It’s cleaner and kinder, more tender in tempo and temperament. It feels like soaking in a bath-bombed tub at the end of a hectic day or a football-and-couch-nap-Sunday after a long, worrisome week. Fall lets you sit in the shade for a spell and settles on your sunburned shoulders like your softest sweatshirt.
All the current chaos in the world has left us craving comfort and driven us desperate for respite, so my prayer for us this fall is answered prayer. That we—like autumn aspen leaves—would dare to dance on sun-drenched branches, then catch a ride on the wind and settle along the path of rest. And that fall would say yes to our yearning for yellow, flinging joy like confetti over our landscapes and lives.
Because art, beauty, and nature are such kind ministers, we will be sharing a lot here and on our Instagram page. Over the next couple of weeks, we will specifically be sharing some of our fall-inspired favorites and would love to share yours, too. Please either reply to this email or DM us on Instagram with your fall-reflective art and photos, so that we may share them with our community.
