Lessons on Faith from Lime Skittles

I spent a few minutes flicking them into separate piles. Purple, yellow, red. Green. Yellow, orange. Green. Red, purple, red. Green.

I was separating the entire bag of Skittles into the two logical piles there are: green and non-green. Also known as the flavor I don’t enjoy, and the ones I love.

I do this so I can make sure I have good flavors cancelling out the (slightly disgusting) lime flavor. Make sense? I’ve learned that if I pair a green Skittle with a red and purple, it tastes less bad – sometimes to the point where I forget I’m even eating the lime Skittle.

You might be wondering where I’m landing the plane right now, and that’s okay. Skittles are undoubtedly my favorite candy, fun fact. I’m usually a die-hard “wild berry” fan, but on the days I cannot secure a pack of that gold, I settle for “original” because I adore four of the five flavors.

My dad walked through the kitchen to my two pile of Skittles and chuckled when he saw I was forcing myself to eat the lime-flavored ones.

“Erica, you don’t have to eat or take something just because it’s there.”

Simple . . . yet revolutionary.

How many times do I try to do everything simply because it’s available? How many times are we scared to say no simply because we have the option to say yes? How much of our life is lived worrying about having excess and wanting comfort, to make sure we have it all and do it all while trying to still sleep each night? How many times do we take some prestigious opportunity, even if we don’t actually want it?

I sat there, making myself eat a candy that I didn’t like and that didn’t add any benefit to my life (let alone health) simply because I paid for it, because I didn’t want to give it away or throw it away?

How often is that our posture with Jesus? How often do we try to do and say and act, instead of just be? How often do we fill and attend every worship service and small group and event, instead of sitting, of resting, of simply talking to Him?

I think the world we live in now gives us excess. I think we could love on much less and with far fewer things, but we will take what we have simply because we can. I think Jesus was a minimalist. He didn’t need green Skittles and flashy lights and lattes and Instagram to share the gospel, to live out the gospel. I think we spend too much time trying to make the Gospel sexy -- trying to make it appeal and trying to make it modern.

The Gospel is fully and completely sufficient. It doesn’t need a new crown molding or a modern design. Jesus doesn’t need a fresh coat of paint of bedazzled jeans. Jesus is here and present because Jesus is alive. Jesus’s story doesn’t need to be edited or changed or enhanced. We don’t need to only focus on certain parts and disregard whole sections.

His story stands. It stands forever. His love remains. It will remain forever, forever unchanging. It speaks without lights, without hashtags, without retweets. His love story is eternal, the opposite of minimal yet fully complete without excess. Bask in that. Sit in that freedom. Run with that freedom.