It was a soggy start this morning, but we walked anyway. I was prepared with a golf umbrella and a polka dot raincoat. My four-legged walking buddy was prepared with her bright yellow raincoat with bumblebee fabric inserts. Her garment is really bright — the color of a school bus — and the driver of one rolled down his window, gave a thumbs-up and complimented her on the color of her rain repeller.
The walk in light rain turned out to be an adventure in a heavy downpour. But we didn’t mind. We were prepared. I enjoyed the crescendo of plinks on my plastic roof. She didn’t seem to mind getting her toenails wet. And the smells — always so important on a dog-walk– were heightened. The irresistible smell of rain — a type of no-smell that’s so fresh. Other smells are intensified; newly sown grass seed reminiscent of a childhood running my hands through that resource in wood bins at Community Paint and Hardware. Soaked pastel hyacinths and grape hyacinths, budding rhododendrons and newly placed mulch were pleasantly bombarding us with their fragrance. And as my friend happily strolled through little rivers of clear, cool liquid I felt like a gradeschooler jumping enthusiastically into the stuff — oblivious to soaked shoes and socks and the drying off that would come later.
His creation was evident all around us. I thought of everything He gives us. Most importantly, He has prepared a way for us through his son, Jesus Christ. In Ephesians 2:10 we’re told, “For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.”
There are many days when I don’t think I’ve done any good works. Those are usually the days when I’ve let anger, bitterness or resentment get in the way of noticing the many blessings around me. When I can stop and give thanks — even in the rain — I am reminded that I am a tiny part of his workmanship. And I can carry my head a little higher, let my heart be a little lighter — and walk on. Even in the rain.
Blessings and kind regards to you all.