DH is colorblind. When I tell people this, I often get the question, “What does that mean? Does that mean he sees in black and white?”
Of course, I say ‘I’ get the question, because DH refuses to speak about it. He doesn’t say it, but I think he views it as a sign of weakness. I tell him it’s a disability, and he should try to get some sort of reimbursement or something under the American with Disabilities Act.
He doesn’t like it when I say that.
Anyway, it doesn’t mean he sees in black and white, but it does mean that he sees color in a different way than most of us do. He is red/green colorblind, which means that he has a hard time distinguishing red and green from each other, and anything with varying shades or combination thereof. He is totally convinced that purple is a worldwide conspiracy.
Occasionally something will happen that demonstrates to me what he is actually seeing. Such a time occurred the day we brought our son home from the hospital. We drove out of the parking garage, and had to stop at the cashier to pay. There were single lights above each booth–green if the booth was open, red if the booth was not. DH pulled up to a red light, and then cursed that there was nobody there.
“Well, the light’s red, honey. Go to a booth that is green”, I told him.
“That light’s not green,” he told me, pointing to a painfully bright green light. “That light is white.”
Ah. An insight into his world.
We had a similar experience a few years later. We were driving in the late afternoon, DH again at the wheel. The sun reflected off the traffic light in such a way that it looked, even to me, like the bottom circle was illuminated white. The traffic light was, however, clearly red. But I thought in my head, “Hey, I bet he thinks that light is green, because it looks like the bottom circle is white”. And I knew that DH measures traffic lights not by color, but by position of light. So I casually said, “You know the light is red, right?”
He said, “No, it’s not, it’s green.” And he didn’t slow down.
I said, louder, “The light is red. It’s RED!”
In a determined voice, he pointed at the traffic signal and said, “That light is GREEN.”
I started shouting, “It’s RED! It’s RED. STOP! STOP!”
He slammed on his brakes, just as a semi truck drove through the intersection.
He was visibly shaken. I was visibly furious.
“Why didn’t you stop when I told you the light was red?” I shrieked. “You could have caused an accident! You could have killed us!”
(I am nothing if not totally reasonable in a crisis. Obviously.)
He just looked straight ahead and said, “I didn’t believe you.”
Yes, folks, he didn’t believe me. A man who has repeatedly had experiences that tell him that when it comes to color, he can not be trusted, did not believe his wife when she told him that a traffic light was red, and that he should stop.
A million things responses went through my mind. Why would I lie to him? Why would I deceive him? Our son was in the car with us–would he think that I would put my family’s life at risk? And it has been proven again and again to him that he can not rely on his own strength in this area, so why would he be, to put it bluntly, so incredibly STUPID?
And then I had an Ah-ha moment.
This must be the way God sees me.
I put my trust in my own strength all the time. I think I can handle things myself when it has been repeatedly shown to me that I cannot. Somehow I doubt I am the only one who does this. And I daresay that when God tells us, “The light is red!” we are much more apt to say, “I don’t believe you” more often than we would like to admit.
Sometimes I think this can be the definition of faith–simply believing God. Yes, I know there is a book entitled _Believing Christ_, and maybe I am stealing some of this from that. But even more than believing Christ’s atonement applies to me, I also need to believe Him when He tells me to do something, or not do something. I need to believe Him when He tells me things are going to be okay. I need to believe Him when He says the light is red.
There is a line from Spencer W. Kimball that hit me hard this week in RS:
It is not blind obedience, even without total understanding, to follow a Father who has proved himself.
I sat there in RS and thought, Hunh.
That means that it only takes one spiritual experience, one moment, to know that He is trustworthy. After that, there is no excuse for not being a true disciple.
I have had that one moment. In fact, I’ve had several moments that tell me that God is real, that He loves me, that He wants me to have joy and that He knows the best path to achieve that joy. Not trusting God seems as preposterous as my husband not trusting me. Why would God deceive me? I learned as a child that it is Satan, not God, who deceives. And yet, even with all of the knowledge I have, I find myself needing to have my trust and my faith reaffirmed, again and again.
Anybody have an experience where you thought light was green? Any thoughts on how to really believe God when He tells you, “The light is red?”
Oh, and by the way, whenever we go somewhere as a family now, I drive.
[...] and I’m over here again [...]
Such a beautiful and insigtful post, Heather. I need that today– and pretty much every day.
Heather, this was beautiful and thought-provoking. Thank you for posting it. Like Amanda, I needed something like that today.
In answer to your question, yes. I have had several experiences like that. Each time, I walk away reminded that I CAN trust the Lord. Each time I tell myself not to forget that again. Each time I walk away convinced that I have indeed learned to forever trust in those promptings.
Sadly, I still forget.
I love the way you spun that yard out- lovely.
Fantastically beautiful and powerful post. Thank you.
I’ve had a lot of moments where God said “green light” and I went, and things turned out great. I had a lot of moments where God said “red light,” and I stopped, and things turned out great. You’ve coined a great metaphor for those experiences.
But apparently unlike you, I’ve also had moments when I personally thought the light was red, but God told me it was green, so I went. A semi truck hit me. Turns out the light was red after all. If that has never happened to you, lucky you. But it only takes one such experience to know that God is not trustworthy after all. I refused to believe it at first, and was “blessed” with several more semi crashes.
You can’t know someone is trustworthy after one experience with them, probably not even “several moments” would be enough in getting to know most people. Anyone who has dated knows that a person might be attractive and pleasant on a first date but sheer horror once they think they have you hooked. A person might be a fine, upstanding citizen in public, but a rogue in private life. But you know that God is perfect all the time based on several moments of interaction with him.
How can it not be blind faith to put complete trust in a God who has proven himself to some, disproven himself to others, and proven to be mysterious to almost everyone. To say that God has proven himself is to willfully turn a blind eye to contrary evidence in your own life (those moments of actively doubting or at least not-knowing or not-being-sure interspersed amongst the moments of knowing) and the lives of others (reports from people who pray sincerely for decades yet never receive discernible answers, or who are sincerely led astray, for example). I’m not saying you should look at that evidence, of course. If you prefer not to, then don’t. But that contrary evidence is there, you cherry-pick around it, and you say your faith is not blind.
“I think I can handle things myself when it has been repeatedly shown to me that I cannot.”
That is true of a lot of people. Also, a lot of people think they cannot handle things themselves when it has been repeatedly shown to them that they can. How does teaching “lean not unto thine own understanding, because God thinks you are, to put it bluntly, so incredibly STUPID” affect those individuals?
Beijing,
You said,
“But apparently unlike you, I’ve also had moments when I personally thought the light was red, but God told me it was green, so I went. A semi truck hit me. Turns out the light was red after all. If that has never happened to you, lucky you. But it only takes one such experience to know that God is not trustworthy after all. I refused to believe it at first, and was “blessed†with several more semi crashes.”
I hate to say this to you, because you’ll probably tell me I am blind, but God would never lie to you. Never. Therefore, the miscommunication is not with him, it is with you. Perhaps you need to think about your answers to prayers and carefully study your own feelings. God is consistent and incapable of deceiving.
Oh, and those people who wait for decades for answers to prayers? Perhaps the answer is “no” and they don’t want to accept it.
Beijing,
I think sometimes Heavenly Father allows us to be tried. I’ve experienced a couple of times when decisions have been confirmed by the Holy Ghost and then I encountered either difficulties or huge trials.
At least once I have had the thought, “Why did you do this to me?!” And at least once I’ve thought, “Why did you even create me?!” So, I understand how someone else could think that.
But, I am learning that our Heavenly Father is REALLY our Father (in the best sense of the word.) He wants us to be happy even in the midst of trials, to put our trust in Him and allow ourselves to be calm and not controlling, to savor peace and not sow conflict between ourselves and Him. I am learning that becoming a disciple means developing self-discipline–not just to be obedient to promptings but to be patient and see those experiences through to whatever resolution Heavenly Father intends.
Excellent post–thanks!
I love this analogy, and I relate to it in my life. The difference is that I usually don’t get the immediate view of the semi confirming that the prompting I received was correct. Often the confirmation comes much later, when circumstances unfold in ways I couldn’t have anticipated. And other times, like Bejing, I feel like I’ve been hit by a semi, only to realize later that what seemed like difficult trials were actually wonderful blessings.