In browsing my photo library recently, I discovered I have taken a lot of photos of purple flowers this year. I was surprised because the majority of them were taken in our garden, and I didn’t realize we had so many purple blossoms! The color is sometimes difficult to photograph—it’s almost like the camera doesn’t know quite what to do with purple. Sometimes it looks pinker than the flower I see with my own eyes. Sometimes it frames up bluer. Occasionally it’s more of a reddish purple. Nevertheless, I’m really pleased with my discovery, and my surprise in their beauty is what initially set me on this pathway to share.
As I sorted through the photos, I discovered something else. Gazing at purple for that length of time gave me a tranquil, dreamy feeling. It was just a hint of something mysterious or otherworldly. Along with it, I sensed a slight shift somewhere inside. I’m going to call it a quiet openness. This was another surprise. I wonder if as you browse this post…will purple have the same impact on you? Often purple is used as an accent in the garden—a little here and a little there—so this gallery might also be your first opportunity to observe something similar.
These surprises I felt evolved into feelings of wonder and awe.
Wonder and awe—we often use these terms in much the same way. They both spring from looking at a phenomenon and responding with amazement and worshipful adoration over something so remarkable we cannot fathom what we’re seeing. In spite of this commonality, there are some differences between wonder and awe which are best clarified in how they energize us.
Wonder manifests like a raised hand. It inspires me to ask and prompts me to explore and learn more.
In contrast, awe behaves like a lamp. It inspires me to step back and gaze and kindles a yearning to show off what I’ve discovered.
Prompted by wonder I researched all sorts of things about the color purple, from its history and symbolism to how it best enhances a garden. My most impactful discovery was the mention of purple in Scripture. It is most often mentioned in the book of Exodus, in reference to the colors in the tabernacle—the curtains, the veil, and the priests’ garments. The tabernacle was constructed using specific instructions given to Moses by God with a command to follow the pattern He gave (Exodus 25:9). The pattern is a copy of heavenly things (Hebrews 8:5) and it was eloquent with rich symbolism.
The instructions involving purple were given and carried out most often as a triad of colors—blue, purple, and scarlet, and always in that particular order. For example, Exodus 26:36 says, “For the entrance to the tent make a curtain of blue, purple, and scarlet yarn and finely twisted linen—the work of an embroiderer.”
Symbolically, blue represented heaven, because as people looked at the skies they were reminded of God’s glory and divinity, His overarching presence. It pointed to Christ’s origin. Purple was a symbol of royalty, wealth, or position, because of the very costly means of processing purple dye, which only kings or the very wealthy could access. Red was a symbol of earth because of the ruddy color of man. It was also a symbol of sacrifice.
The tabernacle points us to the reality of Christ who came to us on earth from heaven and made the ultimate sacrifice (Romans 5:8; 1 Peter 3:18). He obeyed for us, died for us (Philippians 2:8-11; Hebrews 2:10), and was raised for us (Romans 4:25). In this, God has given Him all authority (Ephesians 1:20-21; Matthew 28:18). Purple in the middle, as it always is between blue and red, illustrates how Christ Jesus stands between us and our Heavenly Father. Because of Jesus’ sacrifice, He is the way, the only way we can approach God—we have no other means (John 14:6; Hebrews 5:9).
Jesus’ position reveals another heavenly reality, which feels very personal but is true for all who believe. As the Father looks at me, because of how Jesus obeyed perfectly for me, He sees in me the perfect righteousness of Christ (2 Corinthians 5:21; Romans 3:23-25). I can approach the Father because of Christ (Hebrews 4:14-16) and the Father welcomes me because of Christ (Luke 15:7; John 6:40, 17:24). All the benefits of faith are available through Christ (John 1:12), and He lives to intercede for me before the Father (Hebrews 7:25). What glorious truth, worthy of trust and full acceptance!
My young grandsons sometimes ask, “Grandmommy, what’s your favorite color?” I have a new answer!
And awe? Prompted by awe, I got lost in perusing all the purple, beholding the different shades and seeing how the flowers accessorized in the context in which they grew, how they composed in their space, and how they were influenced by the lighting. Awe induced me to put them on display in some fashion, not simply their purple magnificence, but ultimately as a means of pointing to God the Creator—proclaiming His handiwork, my joy in it, and inviting you my readers to enjoy.
Awe also bid me give words to my delight, which I share in closing:
I praise you Lord for the splendor of the work of Your hands! It declares Your glory; it bears witness, manifesting Your unfathomable creative powers. In it I acknowledge Your loftiness and my creatureliness— You summon my delight; You stir up the gifts of wonder and awe; I’m drawn closer as my soul is prompted to adore, to ask, and to proclaim. In the splendor of Your work, I savor Your presence—a knowing that we are together, and I want more; It entrusts me to Your greater revelation, Your Word that is our life. There I marvel at the outpouring of Your life-giving Fatherly love. Praise to the Lord for His beautiful creation!
*I’m grateful for Brené Brown and her book, Atlas of the Heart, Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience, which has influenced my understanding of wonder and awe. This book has been valuable in helping me better understand the gift of emotions.
