Life is Like a Box of Crayons

I have “hair” colored hair.

Or at least that’s what my friend Amanda would call it.

It’s like if they had to somehow make one universal “hair” colored crayon, that’s the color it would be. It’s not really blonde, not really brown, and every time I see my friends they ask if I dyed it because it looks completely different depending on the lighting. “Hair” color. It’s what I have.

I didn’t always have “hair” colored hair. I used to be blonde, like, “no-questions-asked, its definitely blonde” blonde. I went to the salon every two to three months to make sure it stayed that way. But then I got married and had kids, and sure enough, time at the salon was not at the top of my priority list. I decided to embrace my God-given, boring “hair” colored hair.

I guess that’s what happens when you decide to settle down and bring children into this world. You get boring. You turn into the “hair” colored crayon.

It’s like all of the neutral crayons in the box, really. When you first pop open that fresh box of Crayola’s, the neutrals just aren’t the ones that catch your eye. From the outside, they just look dull and unexciting. It’s the vibrant, sharp, and exotic crayons that everyone wants to be like. You know, like the burnt sienna orange or the tickled pink? Those sound exciting. Those crayons have it goin’ on. Those crayons have all the fun.

Right?

Well let me tell you something. If you hand that box of crayons over to a group of 4th graders and check back in a week, what you find inside will tell a different story, I promise.

When you get that box back, do you know what’s going to be missing, or broken, or chiseled down to the last nub? The neutrals. The “hair” colored crayons. Those are the crayons that get used the most. Those are the crayons that are crucial to completing the picture.

Those are the crayons that do the most coloring.

No, they may not be the crayons sitting neatly inside the box, looking all sharp and fresh. They may look dull and worn, but that’s because they’re busy filling a book full of color. They don’t care if they have to give up their perfectly sharpened point or if their paper wrapping is destroyed by the hands of a tiny artist. They don’t care about looking all shiny and new when somebody peers into their box. They’re too busy using up their color to paint a bigger picture.

I might be the “hair” colored crayon. My life might seem mundane or unexciting to some. But the pages I’m busy using up all of my energy to fill? Those pages are the most amazing, beautiful pictures I’ve ever created. Those pages make my book worth filling.

You can’t judge a crayon by it’s color.