Soaked

I underestimated how much I would sweat as I rode my bike to mass.  Unfortunately, as a young high school teacher, I have to look cool and at the moment it wasn't happening.  Nobody mentioned anything, except for my un-ironed shirt, but that didn't surprise me.
Mass was fine.  Wedged between a parent and another family felt like any other mass to me.  Seeing current and former students taking part in the mass was great.  Too bad Catholic School's Week is only once a year.
I spoke to a few students as I made my way out to unlike my bike.  Everything was there thank goodness.  I hold onto the hope many times that people wouldn't steel something from a church parking lot... so far, so good.
The night was beautiful.  Clean, moist air with a few clouds in the sky.  What more could a guy want for his evening?
All day I had been contemplating joining the group that prays at the Planned Parenthood.  Having never participated in the activities, I wasn't sure on the time.  I rode that way anyway, knowing if I was wrong it was an easy ride home, but if I was right, there would be no more doubt in my head to keep me away.
I rode up to three surprised looking prayers already halfway into the rosary.  I was handed a flashlight and proceeded to join in.
Halfway through the fourth decade I felt something hit me.  It was warm... then another, and another.  In Yuma, Arizona, on a mostly clear night it had decided to rain and then pour.  The leader asked the older lady if she was alright, and she said yes.
We finished the rosary, and to my surprise I was told they also pray a Chaplet of Divine Mercy if I wanted to stay.  Already soaked to the bone there was no point in me leaving.
A little ways through, the older woman came back with two umbrellas.  It was nice to be out of the rain if only for a little bit.
Cars whizzing by, rain dripping from every poky end of the umbrella, lightning flashing in the distance with thunder echoing all around and all I could do was stand there and pray.  My immediate thought was that God was crying.  The night that was so beautiful had become something different.  Like the warm feeling of young child in their mothers womb, unfortunately in this country, and in many others, that scene can end quickly and tragically.  Why shouldn't God be crying.
And apparently, it had never rained on them before.

I have no regrets and the soaked clothes and dirty bike that I had just cleaned earlier today, well, that's alright.

Peace all