I used the same topic for my slice as I did my PAD. (Hey, Ruth, where are your PADs? I’ve collected them and put them together to share on the last day of the challenge as inspiration to others to “publish” their PADs.) So my slice . . .
Tonight, after finally coming downstairs from the entire bedtime ordeal, err I mean, routine, I threw in a load of laundry. Then I went straight for my gym shoes. I judged the light outside and decided I had time to walk outside as opposed to the treadmill.
The logical side of my brain warned about the looming grey clouds. I ignored it, as I tend to do from time to time. What would life be if I were always practical? So I took off, relishing the cool, moist air on my faith, sucking in the fresh air, blowing out the stress from the day.
I knew I should turn back. But I kept walking. With each step my body lost tension. I could feel the energy rising to the top, oppressing the weight of the day.
I knew I should turn back. But I kept going, thinking about the babbling brook just up ahead. Praying and planning and clearing my mind.
I heard the rain first. Padding on the leaves and branches all around me. Then I saw it. Ahead, where the clearing started, it was speckling the road. Slowly at first and then faster and faster.
I knew I should turn back. But I dug my cell phone out of my pocket instead. I called my hero, my knight in shining armor, “I’m twenty-five minutes away and it’s starting to rain. Hard. Will –”
“I’m on my way,” he said. I hung up and high-tailed it back towards home. I saw his headlights. Then his smile. He stopped. I hopped in. We were home in minutes.
Lucky me. For many more reasons than not having to walk home in the rain.
Unhurried. Finding the magic in the middle of living. Capturing a life of ridiculous grace + raw stories.