According to Merriam-Webster, Dye- v. dyed /dī/ to impart a new and often permanent color. That’s right, as in tie-dyed shirts and, this past week, millions of Easter eggs (we contributed a couple of dozen to the total number ourselves). I noticed several days after our dyeing adventure, we still had our fingers stained various colors and it occurred to me: People have dyed me my whole life.
I was dyed beginning at the age of four when my grandfather took me hunting for the first time. Each trip included a stop by the pecan tree that “God made” and provided us with a snack. The trip always included a sing-along to Papa’s favorite hymn, “He Lives.” (Take a look at the link for the lyrics to see just how intentional he was.) A mother who promoted with me in Sunday School to ensure I had a teacher in our small church stained me again. I was dyed forever on January 25, 1997, when a beautiful girl agreed to be my bride and show me what love really was. And, most significantly, the blood of my Savior forever dyed me on August 7, 1981.
I bet you’ve been dyed as well. Think about it. Who are the people who have contributed to the person you are today?
To help answer that question, I have a twofold challenge for us today:
First, let’s take time to find those who have forever marked our life and let them know what impact they’ve had on the person we’ve become. (I’d give anything to have this opportunity with my Papa.)
Second, let’s evaluate what we are doing to impart a new and permanent color in the lives our children.
Any guess what song we sang tonight at bedtime?
Until next time …