Every year the kids go on a Christmas shopping spree at Walmart… sometimes using our own money to buy us gifts. Seems counter-active, I know, but whatever. Usually we end up with something they want. This year, as I was releasing them to the abyss of the super centre, I pointed out the Christmas boxes of amaryllises. Those seasonal bulbs all contained in a little kit, stacked up eyeball level high in the aisle next to the check outs. ”Mom might like one of these” I suggested, with a wink and a nod. It was a cheap gift — and so there it was Christmas morning.

Excited, that my own money was actually used to purchase something I wanted, I plunged the sad looking bulb into its pot and emptied the bagged soil; lovingly tucking it in with hopes it might do something. I watered it through the season and all of a sudden it sprang to life one day! Not one, but two beautiful blooms! A deep, Christmas red with even darker, wine coloured highlights. It made me smile. I’m not sure how long it will last, but the flower made me happy in the dark of wintery January. Now that February has rolled around, flowers, hearts and the colour red has come forward once more. And it has me musing again.

February is my “blog-aversary” and it has been a long journey, this mittonmusings.com. I haven’t gone viral, I barely have a couple hundred followers, and as much as some of my writing has improved, we plod onward with little recognition. That’s okay. Perhaps it’s as much of a journal for me as it is a quick read for my beloved readers. Back to red. I’m reminded of our colouring party… which seems like barely a blink ago, but we explored the symbolism in the Bible of colours way back in 2020!! I invite you to go back and dive in. The post about red is here. I must say, I was on fire then… lots of research went into that endeavour. Huh. Maybe I should host another “theme” series. Whattya think? Perhaps I’ll do a post over on Instagram to see what ya’ll might like.

This week the “red” was thick and dark for me. As an introvert, adjusting to a new city has been difficult for me. I’m trying to do my best to be friendly and courteous, but it’s been really tough to cut through that thick skin of well established groups and culture of “small town”. My heart has been slashed a few times and I’m trying to keep from bleeding out. I’ve been trying to mull it over in my mind. Trying to dig deeper. Think. 

A friend (a good friend with whom I have history with) made it simple. All of us are broken. Some of us must balance our own need for connection with the brokenness of others. Until we are able to level the playing field and realize we are all in the same boat, it’s difficult to build bridges. We need to have shared experiences to connect. Only when we break through the surface do we all bleed red. Which is kind of cool to think that in Christian circles, we talk about how Jesus’ blood covers our sins and cleanses us. Bloodshed allows us to be all put on the same playing field. It was necessary. Sacrifice is required. Deep and painful and rich. Like the colour of red I’ve been seeing this week on my windowsill. Oh, God is good at visual reminders!

So, my little quip this week is not full of research and facts, but more of a journal-to-myself-with -an-audience-on-the-internet post. Seeing red is not always angry. Perhaps, it may mean the exact opposite. Thanks, kids, for the gift that keeps on giving.