She waited for me.
Then waited some more.
And then finally I emerged out of the school building into the pouring rain. I had no umbrella to hold back the wet weather. And to be honest, I didn’t want one. I longed for the rain to pour over me, to cleanse, renew, and restore my soul.
Caught up in my own thoughts and corralling my soaked boys into the van I didn’t notice her. And then I looked up and saw her looking at me. I stood outside drenched from the rain as she sat in her car cozy and warm–the kind of warm that feels like hope.
She was waiting for me.
My face dripped with rain as she handed me a small gift bag. It’s colors and brightness in stark contrast to the grey day and my weary soul. Inside was a gift of music and words…but mostly hope waited for me in that moment. Hope to believe again, to dream again…to live again.
I’m not quite there–gosh not even close. But it’s moments like these that I remember I’m not alone. When I lift my head up I see I am surrounded by hope-givers. Ones who wait for me and offer me the warmth of their friendship while my world is grey and dreary.
I am not alone–and neither are you.
I am not alone,