The cold and the rain and the spirit within (a long story told shortly)

I left the house on account of the serious hankering I had for some of lil ceasars coveted "hot'n'ready" fi'dolla' 'za. The contrast between the black and the white of the clouds split the sky down the middle and though it wasn't raining, you could tell that it was gonna. Sure enough as I exited the fine establishment the drops began to dot the concrete still warm enough to appear to absorb the water specks as they made final contact. The rain quickly becoming denser as it fell I took refuge in the closest bus shelter where I, myself, would absorb the doughy concoction, not knowing the extraordinary exchange between myself and the universe that was about to unfold in the most ordinary of ways.

So there I sat, alone in the bus stop, listening to the rain machine gun loudly against the roof. Pizza on my lap, cheese dip aside, cola in one hand, cigarette in the other (eating while I smoke, yes, as if to celebrate the wonder of a stoner I apparently still am, even when I'm not stoned). As it began to rain I began to speak out loud with god. Asking him if this was just gonna be a little sprinkle, or if he was gonna step up and show me some shit. (I think only Quest would know this from our tree planting experience but I have a tendency to taunt god when the elements flash a chaotic sliver of face) Thunder began to clap and this drove my taunting to new heights as I leaned out of the bus shelter to holler things like "is that all ya got god? I know you can do better than this! I am not convinced til you tear that tree out of the fucking ground!!!"

Naturally, the more I taunted the more god spoke til the falling rain had crescendoed into a torrential downpour. I laughed and ate and smoked and watched as jacketless folk ran for cover from the thunder and lightning and as SUVs drove through massive puddles that sat atop of clogged storm drains along the edges of busy intersections. I recall at one point saying "well dude youre not tearing the trees out but this is fucking impressive." "well done." I called as I applauded appropriately.

As I polished off the pizza and had had a smoke and sat there for a while just being amazed it didnt seem as if god had planned on letting me out of the bus shelter without having to walk through his miracle of a downpour (of course not, why would he after the verbal jostling I had just served).

After some time, and a million little happenings (all of which too slight to even iterate) had passed I decided that I would smoke one more cigarette before I stripped down to just my pants and shoes and walked home through the storm half naked. If god wasnt going to let up with the torrent I was going to bare it as sky clad as possible just for the chance of feeling him pour against my naked skin. I finished the smoke pulled off my toque my glasses my hoodie and my tshirt, packed my bag and stepped out from the bus shelter into the blasting winds of his creation, or so I thought.

The very instant I left my shelter, the rain went from downpour to hardly a drizzle in less than a second. It was if in that very moment I looked up into the black sky , god looked down on me, and we both smiled and nodded in time with one another, knowing. A sense of balance and understanding. I was so ready, not only ready but wanting of whatever god felt like pitting against me. For in all of my experiences I know that I am never given more than I am capable of handling. Therefore, I fear nothing. Nothing.

I walked home shirtless and glad that I was for as I did the sun ripped a clean hole through the blackness to warm my body gently, though so prepared to endure the cold shower simply to feel the power of god against my skin. The cold, and the rain, and the spirit within.