Jogging in the rain

Sometimes, I wonder why I bring a rain coat around with me, since I never use it. Here I am, sitting in Panera, taking advantage of their free wi-fi, with my rain coat literally 10 steps outside the door sitting in my car. I figured I was close enough that if it were to rain, it wouldn't be far enough that it would matter much. Right now, the rain is falling down in sheets, building a 10 step barrier between Cherry Bubi Flaffanagle (yes, I named my car, and the name explanation can come later, its really not that interesting a story), and I.

I have two choices. I could run out into the rain, get drenched, risk getting my laptop wet and ruined, or choose to sit in the comfortable dryness of the restaurant, allowing my baked potato soup to digest, and continue to type this blog entry, in the hopes that the rain would subside. A group of 3 girls have been sitting 2 tables away from me. Two minutes ago, one of them decided it was time to go home, and and decided to risk the rain. She was back before a minute was up, wet, discouraged, and has since opened her books back up again. A glimpse outside into the rain tells me its not letting up for a while. Two joggers just ran by, with no concern for the rain. A guy who works here just ran out into the rain after a customer who forgot something in the restaurant.

My current thought is my relationship with the rain. It has the power to create a barrier within minutes, and sometimes seconds. That barrier is tangible, but yet very much a perception. It does not hold us back physically as much as it does mentally. We can feel it, and it changes us. Some of us enjoy the change - it refreshes us, cleanses us, and creates a tingly sensation on our bodies which remind us how very alive we are. It reminds us of God's multiple blessings, strength and might. With the rain the plants get fed and they grow, and life returns (especially after the very dry summer we've had). Some of us are wary of the change - it discourages us and makes us uncertain, messes up with our appearance, makes us feel cold, and really, what gets me is the wet feet that stay wet (I have a thing about having my feet wet for a prolonged period of time while in contact with footwear). What's beautiful is that the rain welcomes and embraces us, and it allows us to very easily be a part of it.

I am encouraged to view transitions in life the same way I view the rain. Or rather, I would say that I see the similarities between them, and I would like to view them the same way. I do like the rain and I love being in it. What discourages me is getting my glasses wet - vision thus obscured; the whole feet issue; getting my belongings destroyed, and I'll admit, getting my freshly-washed hair not-so-fresh. I've since learned from a particular blog author I read that transitions are what life's all about. We'll never be stagnant in life (or maybe we'll be, but that's a little unfulfilling for me); one transition is followed by another, and another, and another. Be it a new job, a new colleague, a new apartment, a new car, a marriage, a pregnancy, a death.... the list goes on. Each transition is like a mini death to who we were comfortable being before, and a resurrection to who we can be next, with growth and insights accompanying each transition.So is the case with the rain, cleansing us, refreshing us, and giving us more life.

I have 8 minutes till Panera closes. I might as well embrace the rain, be a part of it, enjoy the cooling and tingly sensation, and ignore my discomforts. We can all choose for ourselves what attitude we want to take toward transition. I'll just pray my laptop agrees with the rain too.