Last night it rained and then it poured. Figuratively, of course. We only received a little drizzle mixed with some sleet and freezing rain. I could hear the sleet popping off the windows as I sat on my couch completely overwhelmed with life.
In 30 minutes, life poured on me. Nothing that isn’t manageable and nothing that we don’t all have to deal with, but it poured. And I wasn’t prepared. For all of you clergy pals out there, let’s just say the annual taxes owed were a bit higher than I was expecting. As I was opening them, I received some sad news and while I was on the phone receiving that news, a call beeped through saying the hotel room for my sister’s graduation had been canceled because they overbooked. It poured.
The amusing part of all of this is that while I was picking my jaw up off the ground from the taxes and wiping my tears from the sad news and re-booking a hotel room for May my dog Moses, just home from the vet from his neutering was licking his stitches incessantly. They told me he wouldn’t need a cone because he hadn’t licked at all. Classic. Moses and I got back in the car as rain drizzled down the windshield and I held him down so as not to rupture his wounds. It poured.
But then, my person called. If you don’t know what a “person” is, check out this clip from Grey’s Anatomy. She was just checking in with me in life as we do often for our famous “in town chats.” I told her about my previous 30 minutes as my earpiece clicked in and out because of the weather. She asked, already knowing the answer if I needed anything. I said I just needed to go home and get some stuff together and make my dog look like a conehead. She agreed, knowing me well enough to know that if I really needed something, I would ask.
Moses the now conehead and I were sitting on the couch around 9pm watching some mindless television when my person called to tell me to come out front. There she stood with her dog and a box of Fruity Pebbles, my all-time favorite cereal. She said, “I’m your person. This is what I do.”
This morning, I poured a bowl of Fruity Pebbles and let the milk soak in to those sugar-coated pebbles. As I sat there, conehead beside me, I thought about the gesture of bringing Fruity Pebbles to me in the rain. She’s right, she’s my person– that’s what she does. It’s not pouring today. I’m thankful.