It was Saturday. We had planned for a day at the beach, and maybe a bike ride to the next village up the highway – I was craving macadamia nut shrimp and Marcus frozen yoghurt. But when we rolled out of bed this morning the sky was cloudy and picky as we have become, we decided the weather was not “good enough” and settled for a day on the couch.
As the hours wore on the overcast sky turned to heavy dark clouds and soon it was raining. But unlike the five minute drizzles we were used to, these clouds seemed inexhaustible, and when the sun had set, we were forced to acknowledge the sad truth that we had no food for the next day. We had no choice but to make our way to the grocery store.
We waited for the opportune moment when the rain seemed to have subsided, put on our flip-flops, grabbed the umbrella and left. We did our shopping, goofing around as newlyweds do best, and were soon approaching the exit, carrying three heavy shopping bags. But what met us outside the store suddenly made the bags feel heavy as lead in our suddenly cold hands.
It was raining like never before. For a split-second I considered suggesting that we wait it out here under the provided roof, but I had the feeling that we might be stuck here a little longer than our bare legs and feet would agree to. So Marcus opened up the umbrella that immediately over-powered him and unfolded to an extent that it looked more like a broomstick than an umbrella. He wrestled it back down to the amusement of shopping spectators, and we threw ourselves into the tempests.
Neither of us have ever seen rain like this before. We had barely left the crowded parking lot before our clothes were drenched and we were slipping and sliding in our flip-flops. The before merely wet sidewalk was now inches deep in rainwater. It was all Marcus could do to hold steady the umbrella and I to hang onto his free arm. A section of street lamps had gone out and we could barely see where we were going.
When we had made it half way, Marcus bellowed, “let’s just run!”. He pushed the umbrella into my hands and took off ahead of me. I followed, struggling mostly to keep my slippery flip-flops on my feet. When our house finally swam into view, we both jumped a foot into the air, shocked, when a car honked and pulled up next to us. The passenger door opened and a man’s voice called out, “do you guys need a ride?”. We thanked him, but reassuringly told him that we lived just a few houses down. As the car sped off into the rain I couldn’t help but wish that he’d shown up a few minutes earlier. A minute later I reached our drive-way where Marcus was holding open the gate. We splashed up to the house, fumbling in our pockets for the keys and finally let ourselves into the dry shelter of the apartment.
Our prayers go out to the people of the Philippines who are surely suffering from much greater trials than we did tonight.