Finding and Maintaining What We are Promised

By Madeleine Richards

Photography by Kym VdP

A facade can’t stick,

when your arms are in the air,

shake them around

with luminous colour and flare! 

Freedom is a rainbow,

a staircase to a door,

palm trees making archways,

prompting hearts to grow some more.

Choose to dance with fervour,

dare not to stay the same,

know that there is so much more:

Your heart is known by name. – Tess Guinery (The Apricot Memoirs 2018)

How do you maintain your luminous colour amidst loss and grief?

I’ve been asking myself this lately. I’m not sure I have the answer, but it inspires me to keep looking for the colour. I’m learning that joy and sadness can coexist. Someone I admire once said “there’s a holiness to the sadness.” This is so true. The more I allow myself to be sad with God the more I know and understand the heart of God. I’m reminded of what Jesus said many moons ago, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matthew 5:4). When we mourn we’ll be comforted by God. What a beautiful promise.

Although I do question; what happens when it feels like the colour has left and it can’t be found again? How do we live the life we’re called to live, “a life to the full” (John 10:10) - when we face pain and suffering? Around two years ago, I received a life changing diagnosis. My perspective on my new normal fluctuates. Some days I feel acceptance, hope, on top of my recovery program and the symptoms are improving. Other days I feel helpless, isolated, and deeply sad.

To me, acceptance and hope are warm shades of green and purple. I associate these colours with positive feelings that make me expect and trust in God things will be bright again. I have an unwavering motivation to participate in working to improve my overall health. My body is light and I walk with confidence.

Feelings of helplessness and isolation paint my reality with black. I experience this on days when my body feels weighed down, weak, and off balance. It’s harder to walk and I struggle more than usual to do what once was natural and easy. I imagine the black to be a bit like the mire or the valley but God is always with me in these moments and consistently leads me to the light. It's a cliché but sadness is blue. It’s not necessarily a negative colour because when I allow myself to be sad, I’m not pushing away the discomfort but rather going through it with God.

Despite these fluctuating feelings, this diagnosis has shown me God cares about His image bearers and all they go through. My lived experience of this disease consistently leads me to a deeper understanding of the love and nurturing care God freely gives. It also teaches me to rely on Him, to be faithful in prayer, and to seek His ways above all. He helps me to maintain my luminous colour by sitting with me in my sadness and darkest moments. He patiently waits with me as I process in the valley and teaches me to not rely on my feelings but to rely on Him and His promises.

Suffering and loss are incredibly hard but they produce a strong reliance on the Father. They also lead me closer to understanding what true compassion is and allows me to have deeper empathy for others.

All in all, I’m comforted by the truth that God embraces us amidst loss and grief. He comforts us even when we don’t feel it, sees us when we don’t feel seen, and understands us when we don’t feel understood. He is with us and He stays. So in return, we can be and stay with Him.

To be and to stay with our Creator is to find and maintain our luminous colour.

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Maddie Richards - Regular Contributor

Madeleine resides in the sleepy town of Perth WA where she mostly spends her days writing and singing. When not creating songs, she is found down by the seaside or at her favourite local coffee shop. Above all, God is her muse. You can find more on Instagram @toasttoastbaby