Tuesday, April 12, 2011

God is All-Powerful

I push open the wrought iron gate and it shrieks shrilly in protest. Out of nowhere a rain drop lands on my face and splatters. I look up, but the sky is dark, revealing nothing.

With Jason and Jayden following close behind, I step out on the rocky street. We've just finished our bi-weekly MAF staff meeting and are now ready to walk back home.

"It's raining Mom!" Jayden complains as more drops begin to fall.

"That's okay, Jay, rain is fun!"

He looks up at me skeptically and then importantly clicks on his flashlight. These last days city power has been scarce, and tonight, like many other nights, no street lights illuminate our path.

"Would you like a ride home?" a MAF volunteer and his wife ask, as we walk past their running vehicle.

"Yes," Jayden says. "Good idea!"

"We'll walk," Jason and I say unanimously and then laugh. "I've been stuck inside too long today and there's nothing more refreshing then a walk in the rain!" I add, thanking them for their offer.

"But I want to go in the car Mom!" Jayden complains.

"Come on Jay, have some fun!" I laugh as we walk on.

"You know he's probably right!" Jason points out. "We've lived in the Caribbean long enough to know that a few rain drops one minute could mean a full blown tropical rain storm the next!"
I nod in agreement as right on cue the rain's intensity increases.

As I dance to avoid the puddles that are beginning to form, Jason scoops Jayden up and lifts him onto his shoulders. I can feel the water droplets begin to trickle down my face and back. "Kiss the rain," I sing and Jayden starts to giggle.

By this time, we're so wet there's no need to rush anymore and we leisurely stroll through the warm tropical downpour.
As we pass by a large white gate, it slides open and a dark figure of a man appears. Shielded by an umbrella, he walks several steps towards us. I can make out the shape of a large black garbage bag in his left hand.

"Here," he says in Creole, "Take this!"

"No mesi" we reply thoroughly enjoying ourselves as the warm rain pours down our faces. He looks at us as if we're crazy and continues to hold the garbage bag out to us.

No Haitians walk in the rain if they can help it, and if they do, they use umbrellas, rain ponchos or garbage bags to cover themselves up. Many will even wear shower caps, to keep their hair from getting wet!

We thank him again and continue on in the dark. By now the puddles are impossible to avoid so we merrily slosh through them, still singing.
The air smells so fresh, something sadly lacking most days, that I can't help but take deep breaths between the lines.

Lifting my face up I feel more alive then I've felt in a longtime. There's something energizing about feeling the power of God's elements.

God is all-powerful.

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