Green is the color of envy.
I gaze green at a friend who is beautiful and gifted and who God is using in amazing ways without them even trying. And I blush green because I want those gifts and I don’t quite understand the ones God has given me. I forget to be thankful that I was fearfully and wonderfully made.
I choke green as I scroll through news of idyllic engagements and marriages and babies, constantly bombarded by the life I thought I would have and that I cannot make for myself. I sigh green at the relational gifts God has given, my empty arms wondering how many weeks it’s been since my last hug, or true “how are you?”. I forget that any relationship, even the non-Christian at work whom I get along with, is a gift.
I seethe green at the thought of my fellow PhD students who are advancing and supported and guided, while I work for a brand new professor who seems to rub us all to a blister. I forget to be thankful for the opportunities to do work that so perfectly interlocks with my personality.
Sometimes I’m afraid to lift my head and look around for fear of drowning in the green pool of unfulfilled longings all around me. I search for my crumb of thanks, while remembering the taste of pastries once eaten and imagining the delicacies of cake I’ve never tasted.
And I remember that the Father is close to the brokenhearted. He cares for the hungry. Pastries and cakes will never truly satisfy; but even a crumb eaten from the hand of a caring Father satiates the soul.