Drip Drop Drat

I stepped into the day.
And immediately wished I hadnt.
If only everything I owned was waterproof.
I quickly made the discovery that today I would be wet. And there was no fighting that.
Within seconds, my blue and black skirt turned to a shimmering layer of black and darker black.
Each step of my foot was quickly overtaken by an inch deep stream of water passing me by.
Within minutes I was completely drenched.
And there seemed to be no hope of a drier future.
Church was spent air drying - but on rainy days like today, everything is damp.
By the time I left church my skirt had regained its former color.
But not for long.
As I walked to the bus (and wished for a stranger to drive me home) I discovered something unsettling.
I had not remembered to bring my phone and worse, I had not brought house keys.
I quickly tried to come up with a plan of what I would do when I reached my empty apartment.
With Sheila in Ireland and Lauren in Philadelphia (Pittsburgh? Something with a P), and no phone, my options were limited.
I refused to be upset. That wouldnt help me.
So I prayed. I prayed for Lauren to be my saving grace. That she would have returned from her trip. That she would be home upon my arrival.
I dislike being soaked through. And even more I dislike sitting on a bus while I'm soaked. Everything feels dirtier when you're wet.
But I hurried from my bus stop to my front door, the rain continuing to pour down in sheets.
I buzzed my apartment.
Nothing.
I tried to look up to our windows but refused to soak my face enough to get a good look.
I tried all three apartment buzzers.
Nothing.
Now I was ready to begin panicking.
No phone, no roommates, no where to go.
The only thing I knew for certain was that sitting in the rain was turning into my best option.
I was on the verge of a melt down, when one of the girls from apartment three opened the door.
I think her name is Kellie. And she had saved me before.
She opened the door, and I'm positive I looked pitiful.
Rain pouring off my clothes, which were soaked a nice dark color, I looked up and said "so I'm locked out again."
She just smiled and told me she'd tried to stop by our apartment to drop off a treat.
Apparently they've been re-arranging furniture lately and making a lot of noise.
I hadnt noticed.
Of course there still was the issue of getting into my apartment.
But Kellie seemed more than willing to let me continue to file up after her to her apartment.
As we passed my door I said a silent prayer that the door was opened and turned the knob.
Victory. The door swung open.
I thanked Kellie for saving me yet again and the banana bread.

I know it probably doesnt seem like much, but for me, Kellie rescuing me was a big thing.
Part of what makes Massachusetts difficult for me, is the feeling that if I'm ever in trouble, where I literally cannot help myself, there is no one to rescue me. In Alberta I'd call one of my brothers or a cousin. Because family will always come through. But here I have no brothers or cousins. And sometimes it feels like no where to turn. I'm trying to learn to trust that God will rescue me when needed. Or I guess notice more the role he plays in my rescues. Clearly its a learning process. So I guess I'm grateful for two things right now: 1. Being dry and warm and 2. Immediate unignorable answers to prayer.