Several weeks ago, I checked the weather as I usually do in the morning and decided it would be a good day to wear sandals into work, and only a lightweight sweater over my shirt. It was going to be mostly sunny all day and I would spend most of my time inside besides.
The weather report was wrong, and later as I was working remotely from church in a local coffee shop, it started to rain heavily. I tried to wait it out to no avail. By the time I made it home that evening, I had damp shoulders and soaking toes.
It was uncomfortable for me, but by the time I got home, only an inconvenience. I could take my shoes off, dry my feet, and have warm socks on within minutes. I am reminded, however, that this is a privilege, just as it was a privilege a few hours later to retrace my steps back to church for worship in my car rather than walk in the continual rain.
While living in Manchester 2015/2016, someone giving me a ride on a rainy day was an absolute blessing; most of the time, I would arrive slightly damp wherever it was I was headed. It was an expense and a treat if I decided to take the bus (and I would make sure to use my pass as much as possible to get my 4 pounds worth of a ticket). I have fond memories of peddling through a far deeper than expected puddle near a park, and the funny look I got from a priest when caught drying my socks on the radiator in our office.
I give thanks for my ability to walk, ride, or drive wherever I need to go whenever I need to go. And I appreciate every opportunity I am afforded to pay forward giving a kind ride to someone else.
