I asked that question to my granddaughter.
At that moment we were out in the country, and if you looked to the west across the hay field, you could see the spent brome, now tan, along with its tender green undergrowth, and you could see too how this field ran into the woods along the west line. Those trees were that rich green of late summer, and their colors then merged into the blues and grays of the sky. The grays by the way, were about to lower into a mist.
“I think rainbow colors,” she said. Which was just a young girl’s way of saying that she thought God liked all colors equally.
Of course I had to agree. Every color is special and necessary and important in its own right.
So what’s God’s favorite color?
I guess only people pick favorites.