This is just an entry from my journal that I wrote yesterday. I will try to post an explanation of all of this soon.
Finals are upon me, and I can hardly believe that the semester is almost over. Spring should be here, but somehow the door was not locked on winter, so winter has snuck back in for the time being. It will be strange to be in Michigan this summer, though, I know that in the providence of God, this is what is best. I will sorely miss being at Immanuel this summer, especially when looking at the prospect of attending an unfamiliar church with whom I do not agree on some major theological issues. I am sitting by the Jo-Bowl , covered by the shadow of the setting sun and the clouds, but the sky has parted, so beams of light are cast upon all of the buildings, creating a warm glow on the brick where none existed before. Soon that light will fade into dusk, but for now the green of the trees shows its full majesty. It is a color unlike any other color, even any other shade of green. I think that it might be my favorite color. The green is now gone, but memory lingers. This green is extraordinarily rich and deep, as if it were painted on the canvas of time by the hands of sorrow and joy. You cannot have one hand without the other painting such a green. Unmixed joy would produce a glaring, yet shallow and insipid shade. But sorrow unmixed with joy should look almost black for its mourning. No, the two must come together in the proper balance, the right interplay of shadow and of light. The shadow deepens the brightness, and the light warms the shadow. The result is a green that is understanding and welcoming, which does not mock sadness nor scorn laughter. Just one more manifestation of the beauty of the creativity of God.
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