From our porch, the lightening and hail are mesmerizing. Thirty minutes ago I had no idea that the perfect storm was fast approaching. There’s not a whole lot that can go wrong when you’re sitting back, covered and watching it happen. I am frozen with gratitude.
With computers in our laps, we push through the day’s to-do lists. We could be in any office on a Monday at 3pm, but we’re here. Overcome by the rain-scented breeze, we press on. The goose bumps on my arms remind me that the sun is gone for the afternoon, and I assume he won’t be back until morning. I am shaken by the thunder but still with awe.
Could I ask for anything more? In this moment, I am sure that I absolutely can not. No addition could make this moment more perfect.
“Can I get you some coffee?” his sweet voice asked.
I was wrong. But now that there’s a steamy cup of caramel coffee beside me, I am sure again. Nothing in this world could make this moment more perfect.
The rain is gently falling now, and the thunder is departing. Although the closer I listen, the more it sounds like it may be again approaching.
I don’t need the house, new clothes, or even a car from this decade. I need this. I need the perfect storm to remind me how undeservingly blessed I am in this life, to remind me how big small blessings can be when they’re seen for what they are.
How often do we see the rain outside without experiencing the glory that it has to offer? How often does the beauty of every day go unnoticed? It’s no wonder we’re impossible to satisfy.
I didn’t play a part in this perfect storm, but I did learn something: these moments are rare, but they’re even more rare when I forget that life is an adventure to cherish. If I am not seeking rich experiences, I can’t expect them.
Thank you, perfect storm, for an unexpected afternoon.