There’s only one way to describe this morning’s run: wet.
I dithered about whether to even go out. I’ve been cold all week, at work and at home. This is what happens when the rains start up in earnest. The damp gets to me.
I’ve got a sore spot on the ball of my left foot, so I took a few days off to rest and rehab it anyway. Time to get back at it. I tucked my shirt in for warmth and hit the streets. The cool rain hit my face and I remembered something that happened yesterday.
I drove Zac to the high school. The days shorter now, our 7-minute drive took place in the dark. The windshield wipers thunked a beat in the silent car’s interior. Neither of us had much conversation.
“This is my favorite,” Zac said.
“What do you mean?” I asked. Zac majors in sarcasm, so I needed clarification.
“The lights in the rainy morning. They reflect off the street. It’s so cool. It’s beautiful.”
I grinned in the darkness. The colored lights of the streets and intersections created a pastel painting of sorts, bleeding onto the roads. I could see it.
“Yeah, I like that, too. The pavement has a satin finish when it’s wet.”
Zac gave me a withering gaze, unmistakable even in the near-black.
“That’s sateen, Mom.”
End of moment.
I love it when life – via God – throws out little surprises. We never know what’s up around the bend, but we dive in every day. We just might get a kick out of a teenage boy’s insights or a puddle-jumping run. God is in the surprise business.
For I am about to do something new.
See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
I will create rivers in the dry wasteland. – Isaiah 43:19