The Living Sacrifice
Romans 12:1-2 “12 I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, hol...
Wednesday, January 2, 2019
A Walk in the Rain
I went walking in the rain the other day. I had on a waterproof jacket with a hood, old running shoes that have seen better days but were used to getting wet, a pair of faded jeans, and a T-shirt I got back in the days when I was running in races with the face of a Viking on it.
The rain had turned into a slow, steady drizzle and I quickly realized that my glasses were of no use so I took them off and put them into my jacket pocket. The world looks different when you are nearsighted and not wearing your glasses; foggy and mysterious, soft around the edges.
The fall rain, combined with fallen leaves has a unique smell that is only present that time of year, that I associate with high school and wrestling season and endless running drills in a sweaty gym. And on this particular day, I was back in that gym, on those mats; young again with boundless energy. And I wasn't even aware that the drizzle had turned to downpour and that I was soaked from the waist down.
Despite the rain, I crossed the highway and walked into the park across from our neighborhood. Because of the rain I had the entire park to myself. I walked the trail that wound through the woods and listened to the sound of the rain coming through the trees, like whispers on the wind. And then I walked to the small stream that was near overflowing, its waters reaching the top of the bridge. Rain changes things.
Soon, I found myself in a road near the field that months ago during summer was planted with corn. This was the field that I had walked to the day before my sister died three years ago and had been followed by a dragon fly. I had told my sister about it and she said that lately dragon flies had swarmed her each time she went outside. And now, every time I see a dragon fly, I think of that day and this field and the quiet summer corn, and her.
From the field I walked back home, and the rain fell steadily all the way back. And as I unlocked the door to my house, I was thinking about what a good walk it had been.
Posted by Eric Lanier at 9:14 AM
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