You’ll all be proud of me. I took Chris on a nice, romantic walk yesterday. Two miles together, just walking and talking and enjoying the oppressive heat and overpowering humidity. We did stop for a few minutes to talk to an old neighbor who moved away about a year ago. He was the guy we always used to see walking around the neighborhood. His wife was my Mom’s hairdresser. As Mom got older, she would even come to our house to get the job done. Manuel was back in the neighborhood visiting some of the old buddies he made during his earlier jaunts. It was great to see him, and we appreciated his introduction to another of our neighbors. But the interlude didn’t last very long. We were, after all, on our romantic stroll through the quaint neighborhood.
Now, you might have noticed that the walk distance was earlier recorded at two miles. Those of you who keep up with those sorts of things might be remembering that we often walk three miles. What, pray tell, caused the decrease yesterday? Glad you asked. See, that’s what brought the romance, the true ambiance to the experience. As we approached the mile and a half marker … it started pouring down rain. A thunderstorm off the Gulf. There we were, with no quick way to reach shelter. So what else could we do? We continued our walk. Come on now. Don’t you remember how much fun it used to be when you were a kid? Dodging raindrops. Splashing into puddles. Hoping it didn’t thunder too loud, because that’s when Mom would ring the bell and you’d have to go inside. Yep we had a real hand-rung bell that Mom would ring when it was time for us to come home. The whole neighborhood knew about the bell, too, so we couldn’t hide from it. The bell sounded, and it was time for the Vaughan boys to head home. We still have that bell by the way. Dad got it from the old quarantine station, as I recall. Still pretty loud, too.
Now, I have to admit, I added to the romantic feel of the occasion just a bit. I did a little singin’ and dancin’ in the rain. I think I could have lasted the whole half-mile back to the house, too. But a car was coming and I had to get out of the middle of the street. And Chris was so overly-appreciative of my efforts that she assured me she had had about all of my romantic overtures that she could handle for one wild, crazy, wonderful walk in the rain.
Psalms 147:7-8 says, Sing to the Lord with thanksgiving; Sing praises to our God on the lyre, Who covers the heavens with clouds, Who provides rain for the earth, Who makes grass to grow on the mountains.”
Father, thank you for the refreshing from the heat that the rain brought us yesterday. It was really nice. Fun, too. Amen.