We were sitting at dinner last evening with a few friends when the bottom dropped out. Torrential rain pounded down in sheets for what seemed like an hour. Rivers flowed through the streets and the trees strained under the weight of water.
As others lamented forgotten umbrellas, a girlfriend piped up, "Oh, I love the rain!"
Another friend, laughing, confirmed the fact, "Yes, just last week you went dancing out the door in a storm. I've never seen you so happy."
I was struck by the childish simplicity of her statement and all of a sudden the evening's shower didn't seem so bad. And it hit me how often that is the case. How a situation that might look dreadful, a shower that threatens to soak, might be just the refreshing cleanse that I need. And how something as simple as the way you deal with a rainstorm reflects so much about how you deal with life.
This evening, as the rain came down once more and I sat late at the office, I felt my spirits rise in anticipation and I rushed to finish my work that I might catch a few drops.
Sure enough, I made it out in time for a waltz in warm summer rain. And it was glorious.
Like swimming in ditch rivers and taking mud baths with my sister. Like front porch swinging, book in hand in the midst of a thunderstorm. Like getting caught mid-hike in the woods with your first love. Like shielding a bride in a golfcart as you dash across a courtyard.
I had forgotten how nice a good rainshower can be. Thank you, Lindsey, for reminding me.
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