Rising Point. Photo by Tim Graves. Creative Commons License BY-NC-ND 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/
Rising Point. Photo by Tim Graves. Creative Commons License BY-NC-ND 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/

I wiped my face half expecting smushed bug but all I got was raindrop. Simultaneously relieved and confused my eyes turned skyward. White fluff dotted blue, sun-soaked skies.

Except.

Except for that one dark mass of sky lint. I’d have remained dry, apart from the sweat my own body produced, as I climbed McCall Point were it not for that annoying, solitary raindrop.

Solitary Raindrops. Photo by Tim Graves. Creative Commons License BY-NC-ND 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/
Solitary Raindrops. Photo by Tim Graves. Creative Commons License BY-NC-ND 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/us/

It was that kind of raindrop that strikes out on its own. It was risking enthusiasm and passion embodied within two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen. It was prophecy of challenges to come, of storms that must be navigated. And it chose to land upon my face.

Though we often scold or ignore solitary raindrops, we need them. The solitary ones herald the costs of our journeys. They risk that we might grow and develop musculature. They risk that we might be whole.

I pray today that I heed the warnings, embrace the wisdom, and honor the risks the single tears take on our behalf. May I be worthy of the solitary one’s choice to land upon my cheek. Amen.

___

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