Today, when I got out of church, it was pouring outside.
When I left to go to church earlier, it was a comfortable 55 degrees, overcast, the smell of rain sitting heavy in the air. It's a smell I love, but I hoped it would hold off at least until I got to church and was safely inside the building. A girl's hair rarely appreciates the rain. We made it to church dryly, greeted only by a slight mist as we crossed the parking lot.
The rain came on strong during our last meeting, showering the windows and splashing on the ground outside - it was creating a sense of both peace and anxiety for all of us ladies sitting in Relief Society meeting. I've always thought the sound of rain was quite peaceful and relaxing, but we were all also very aware of the fact that we would soon be walking outside to the torrential downpour we were listening to.
When it was time to leave, a friend and I ran to our other friend's car after she pulled up to the curb for us. We were anxious to run out because, while the rain was bad in general, the first step past the roof overhang was like a waterfall. So we stayed as long as we could by the side of the building, until the car was as close as it could get. Then we passed as quickly as we could through the wall of water and literally jumped into the car. Another girl was coming with us and we stayed waiting at the curb for her to come out.
The 5 minutes we sat and waited might have been the funniest 5 minutes of my entire weekend. Girls were asking guys to go get their cars and pull them up, men were struggling between running out to cars and not wanting to get their dry-clean only suits wet. Girls ran out to pulled up cars, shuffling as fast as their ridiculously high heels could go, holding their hands out like they were stepping in something gross. Boys ran out to cars, looking like girls running in the rain. No one was exempt from looking completely ridiculous, and we had a good laugh as we watched people decide how to take the rain. I felt completely justified in it, since I knew I had looked that exact same way only minutes before.
As we drove home, our laughter settled into a somber quiet, as we each turned to our windows and watched the world pass by. My thoughts got lost in the gray Potomac river and misty clouds to the side of the road.
Between standing in the dry doorway of the church and sitting in the car as I watched the rain come down, I was reminded just how much I love watching the rain.
When I was little, I loved sitting in the garage with the door up, sitting on a lawn chair or a mound of blankets on the floor, watching the rain come down just feet from where I was. I loved staying dry, but being able to stick my hand out in front of me and feel the rain come down. Sometimes I would bring a book out to read, but oftentimes I'd just sit and let the sound and smell of the rain drift me into a complete daze. It was so calming to me.
I got home and quickly realized we were on the wrong side of the townhouse to be able to enjoy the rain from our doorway. Our welcome mat soaked through, I shoved my key in the lock and jumped inside. But I left our main door open for a bit longer and stared out the screen door, watching the puddles dance with each raindrop that fell. No thoughts ran through my mind, no color escaped the gray blanket over the neighborhood, no sounds rose above the pitter-patter on the ground. I was quite content. It was as though the world had stopped for awhile, resting, getting renewal from the fresh rain. I quite enjoyed it, and felt the renewal run through me as well.
I had a great weekend of refreshment, of physical, mental, and spiritual replenishing. I feel quite revitalized, and ready for Spring.
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