Lovely weekend away at a favorite destination. Sweet memories filled with laughter, wave surfing, long walks on the beach, and just good ole' relaxation. Was there rain? Oh, yeah! Luckily, our family doesn't melt. . .so, a great time was had by all.
Alas, the time arose when the return home was imminent. (Don't misunderstand. I am blessed beyond belief and my 'home' is actually a haven, but leaving the beach is always kind of a bummer.) Circumstances arose where Jeromy needed to return one day later than me. So, the children and I start off down I95. A little drizzling, some steady afternoon showers, but all is well. One child is sleeping, the other is humming, and I am thinking to myself, 'What's a little rain?' We are making great time! Super Mom will have these kiddos in bed on time, and refreshed, ready for school the next day.
Right before the I295 exit, something happened. What, you ask? My driver's side windshield wiper stopped working. STOPPED. Now, if you were anywhere within the Florida/Georgia vicinity yesterday, you will understand this was problematic. As the passenger side windshield was rocking and rolling, the other one was paralyzed. Paralyzed until a gust of wind threatened to toss the dead appendage like a missile to some unsuspecting traveler. Uh-oh. Then, the situation worsened a bit more. The light rain turned into a full force Florida downpour. Houston, we have a problem. Mama is only 5'4'' on a good day and simply cannot stretch her neck that far to see. On 295. On Labor Day. Long story made longer. . . the children and I made it to a restaurant where I stretched the meal as long as I could, we loaded in the parked truck to eat up some data on my iPad, and alas, my knight in shining armor rescued me, ready with super grandparents to save the day.
We got home, children are in school, and I am typing this blog. All is good.
However, my windshield wiper debacle inspired thought. Sometimes, we are able to stretch our necks and get some much needed perspective. Other times, we just aren't capable of it. When we are blinded by the pelting of the storm, we pray to the Maker of the rain to rescue us. Rain teaches us to think outside the box, rain teaches us to stretch, rain teaches us to trust. . .
Amanda Williams is a forty-year old wife and mother of two who can still swing her pony tail and display just a tad of sass. She is also a Jesus loving girl who realizes she is nothing without the One who saved her. Amanda has two degrees specializing in serving students with special needs and is currently working in the field of Leadership Development. She is a Christian author, speaker, blogger, and publisher who loves serving beside her husband at her local place of worship, First Baptist Church of Ocala.