There are moments that define our future which slip past without seeming worthy of notice. There are other moments when we catch a glimpse of possible futures as the moment slides by…
Last week, while cleaning out a cupboard, I found a small plastic lid. It looked vaguely familiar, as plastic lids often do, but I couldn’t immediately match it in my mind to a bottle that needed such a lid. I set it aside to be washed and later matched with a bottle, or thrown away if no match was found.
This afternoon I found that lid hanging around on my sink. I hadn’t had time to go bottle matching yet, so I just rinsed it off and set it in the dish drainer. On the surface this was an act of hope for the future, creating visions of a world where all lids match bottles and vice versa. But as I set it in the drainer I saw a glimpse of a different future, a future where my sink is littered with lids that have no apparent match, but that I can’t throw away because I might find a match later.
I fished out the matchless lid and threw it away.
Take that, destiny.
I’m not big fan of exercising while I’m doing it. I like walking through the woods just fine, and as previously mentioned, I don’t even mind if it’s raining at the time, but the fact that it’s exercise is still not that thrilling in and of itself.
But there’s something cool about those first few minutes when I’ve finished exercising and I can feel the blood pumping through all my veins and arteries. (And, since despite all my other health problems, my blood pressure is fantastic I have to think they’re doing something right. Good job, veins and arteries! Whatever you’re doing, keep it up!)
I know I’m a little weird in that I like to think about things like blood pumping through my arteries, but I find it fascinating how all these systems in the body work together. Being able to feel my blood pumping after a walk is a reminder of what a neat system God put together when He made our bodies to work the way they do.
I like all kinds of rain. Because really, if you think about it… Drops of water falling. From. The. Sky. How cool is that?
But misting rain adds a special sense of adventure to the day. Just stepping out under the sky gives me the same feeling it must be to stand in the prow of a boat that’s headed to distant lands, with that fine spray of water across the face.
The world is muted and mysterious. I can’t shake the feeling that somewhere on the other side of that mist is something special and amazing that I’ve never seen before. If I could just walk through it long enough I’d find something other than the trees and cornfields and buildings that part of my mind knows are still just as present when hidden by mist.
Misting rain turns a prosaic day poetic, a phenomenon of which I am in favor.