All Cats Are Gray In The Dark

I once dated a guy in the 10th grade who had a thing for overalls.
It’s not that something is inherently wrong with men wearing overalls.
He just wore them almost every day.
And I wasn’t emotionally prepared to date someone who could double as a scarecrow.

I wanted to like him. I really did.
He checked all the solid tenth-grade boxes.
So I ran it by my best friend.
Because if anyone could justify breaking up over a clothing choice, it was her.

I expected support. Or at least You’re not shallow.
Instead, she gave me this:
The next time you’re with him and he’s wearing the overalls, just close your eyes.
All cats are gray in the dark.

Wait. What? All cats are gray in the dark?
I laughed.
Because nothing says healthy relationship like pretending you can’t see it.

But the truth?
We still do this.
We shut our eyes and hope that if we stop looking too closely, maybe it will feel different.
Maybe we will want it more.
Maybe we will convince ourselves it’s enough.

It’s easier than we think to keep our eyes shut because facing what’s really there might mean doing something about it.
You don’t love it. But you don’t hate it.
You don’t feel joy. But you’re not technically suffering.
So you keep going.
You tell yourself it’s probably fine because squinting feels safer than seeing clearly.

We stay in jobs that drain us because the paycheck feels safer than starting over.
We keep showing up to small groups where we don’t feel known just because it’s easier than finding a new one.
We avoid checking the bank account, stepping on the scale, or opening the email because we already know what we don’t want to see.

We stop asking God the hard questions.
We pretend the relationship is fine.
We tell ourselves this is normal when we haven’t felt peace in months.

We close our eyes.
Not because we don’t care.
But because we’re scared that opening them might mean making a decision we’re not ready to make.

You weren’t made to close your eyes and hope the pieces fit.
You were made to live wide-eyed and full-hearted.

God brings light, not to embarrass you or ruin your illusion.
But to show you what’s actually good.
What’s actually worth holding on to.
What’s actually purposed for you. 

And yes, sometimes the light reveals that it’s time to walk away from something that looked better in the dark.
But it’s also time to stop tolerating what God is trying to transform.

If you’re in a season that feels gray,
If you’ve been trying to convince yourself that it’s fine, that this is normal, that everyone must feel like this, 
Stop and ask: What am I not looking at?
Where have I closed my eyes?
What would I see if I invited God to light up the room?

You were made for more than meh.
You were made for color. For truth. For clarity.
And no matter how long it’s been dim
you still have permission to open your eyes.

Because God’s light brings truth.
And that truth will set you free. 
Goodbye gray. Hello freedom.