Dancing in the Rain

Day 12: Dancing. I’m really not much of a dancer. My body just doesn’t move like I want it to. I usually feel like an idiot. So when the picture for the day was dancing, I secretly hoped that I could somehow skip it without anybody noticing. Day 13 is supposed to be a picture of shoes. I can do shoes. I could take about 30 pictures of shoes…one picture for every pair of shoes I own. I was thinking about doing that today, but then I decided to go for a walk instead. As I grabbed my phone and my keys, I heard the soft pittar-patter of rain falling outside, so I threw on my rainboots and grabbed an umbrella.

As much as I love sun and summer, I LOVE rainy days. As long as it’s not cold. I think it’s because in Niger, rain was the most glorious thing in the world. The breeze that hits right before the storm, wiping the heat and humidity right out of the room. The smell of dust and rain and nim leaves mingled together that rises from the ground right after a rainstorm. Rain on a tin roof is the best lullaby. The splash of rain puddles as a car drives through the ginormous puddle in the street. Ah, I love rainy days.

(I remember one time in the dorm we were singing the song “Light the Fire”. We were singing “I feel your arms around me as the power of your healing begins. Your Spirit moves through me, like a mighty rushing wind.”…and right then a storm heart. A full-out, African storm. I have never felt the lyrics of a song so powerfully!)





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