And the Color Is Orange

February 17th.

On this day for the past seven years, my Dad has had a beautiful rose delivered to my doorstep. It’s simply the sweetest gesture because it’s his birthday, yet he thinks of me because it’s Josiah Day, a different type of day I tend to celebrate. But while this selfless act is the sweetest, I believe the most thoughtful and encouraging aspect of this tradition is this: the flower is always a different color he strategically chooses to encourage me through the struggles of infertility.

For instance, in 2016, when it all began, he had a red rose delivered to my home; it symbolized his love to hope in all things, believe in all things, and endure through all things with me. He chose it based upon the verse in First Corinthians. The following year, on the same day, I was shocked as I stood on my back porch receiving yet another rose, this one blue. In the note, my Dad explained this color represents the impossible. However, the message went on to explain that the impossible is easy to change with the simple addition…adding the letter “a” in between the letters “I” and “M,” making it IAMPOSSSIBLE. But not that I am the one who can make it possible, but the Great I AM can. Powerful, isn’t it? The following year it was green, symbolizing new life and restoration, both of which he prays daily for me to experience; the restoration of my broken dreams and new life to grow within my womb. In 2019, he gifted me a white rose that symbolizes joy, peace, triumph, and victory, which by definition means overcoming the enemy.

Red. Blue. Green. White.

I hadn’t experienced victory by the following year and, to be honest, dreaded the next rose, secretly praying it would slip his mind. After all, it had been five years since his tradition started, but nearly eight years of contending for a miracle and waiting to see if it would come to pass. At this point, I couldn’t be the only one who had the occasional thought as to if I indeed heard the Lord whisper to me the promise of a son (with an attached name of Josiah) or if it was my hormones talking foolishly. Therefore, as I sat staring at the beautiful yellow rose so innocently delivered and looking to the card still left to be opened, I couldn’t help but feel shame.

After all, how many more colors will he be able to send before he runs out?

And to the others in my life who are watching this story unfold, was my testimony starting to rot and stink? Did it smell of corruption and decay? Are they looking at my wait duration and deciding that God isn’t trustworthy or someone to wait upon because He hasn’t answered my prayer?

As I sat at my desk in 2020, staring at the yellow rose and struggling to open the card, I heard the Lord whisper to my tender heart that it was okay. My Dad wouldn’t run out of colors because He, the Lord, won’t allow it. Nor will He allow any child of His who places their hope in Him to become disappointed or ashamed. For me, this means He won’t let my steadfast stance to wait upon Him become a stench to others. Instead, He is devoted to turning it into a sweet aroma of life in the form of my sweet baby boy, whom I believe will, in turn, be a witness to God’s faithfulness, ultimately sparking hope into the hearts of others who are also waiting on the fulfillment of long-awaited promises.

Feeling my faith strengthened, I opened the card, and as tears poured down the sides of my face, I learned that within the Word of God, the color yellow symbolizes Faith, God’s Glory, Anointing, Words of Wisdom, Refining Process, and Yielding, Life of Joy. My Dad’s prayer was for me to experience all of these things within the upcoming year. He wanted me to have unshakable faith, a new revelation of God’s Glory, a fresh anointing of His power, and Words of Wisdom. He also prayed that I would have the humility to yield to the refining process and a life of joy that would radiate to all those within my circle and beyond, but especially for the Joy of the Life to one day soon rest safely in my arms.

How precious and timely.

The following year, in 2021, feeling as though I did experience the color yellow in my life, minus the joy of life safely within my arms, I held in my fingers a rose in the most beautiful shade of purple, which in nature is the rarest color. Unlike the year before, I was eager to read what my Dad had written on the card; therefore, without hesitation, I ripped it open to find that the color purple represents faith, trust, patience, fasting, and majestic royalty. My sweet Dad then went on to say this, “be faithful, patient, and steadfast in your trust as you wait on Jesus to bring an end to this fertility fast, and the rare becomes a reality.”

This all leads to today, February 17th, 2022. With a knock on the door, I witnessed beauty in its purest form; an orange rose awaited me, and within my Dad’s card, it read,

“Although another year has passed, I will believe that only means we are that much closer to seeing God’s prophetic word come to life in your son and my grandson. This year I have chosen the color orange. Biblically, it represents God’s purifying power and presence, and it also means a vessel of clay. P.H. (his nickname for me) You are His vessel. In this time of waiting, I believe His presence and purifying power are not only being poured out on you but also those vessels that enter into His presence through your ministry building, “Doors of Hope.” One day, when we stand before Jesus, and each of us gives an account of our lives, you will be amazed at the number of people you have influenced for Christ. And on that day, I will still be proudly standing behind you. And I will say, yep! That’s my daughter.

I love you, Dad

Red. Blue. Green. White. Purple. Yellow.

And now orange.

So often, we see our wait as a time of waste.

But in the waiting, God is doing His best work, pouring His presence and purifying power into us, His vessels.

It reminds me of the song, New Wine by Hillsong Worship, in which the lyrics say,

In the crushing
In the pressing
You are making new wine
In the soil
I now surrender
You are breaking new ground

So I yield to You into Your careful hand
When I trust You I don’t need to understand

Make me Your vessel
Make me an offering
Make me whatever You want me to be
I came here with nothing
But all You have given me
Jesus bring new wine out of me

‘Cause where there is new wine
There is new power
There is new freedom
And the Kingdom is here
I lay down my old flames
To carry Your new fire today

Lord, in the year 2022, let us experience the color orange. Pour your presence and power into us, making each of our hearts whatever you want them to be.

What is Josiah Day? Read more here.

For more posts related to this tradition:

The Rose of Infertility

Shamed, but Unashamed

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