rain on the windshield

rain on the windshield driving wipers

Yesterday, I hauled our biggest, over-packed suitcase into the already brimming SUV. I strapped one little guy in his booster seat and the other in his car seat, and somehow managed to squish the dog in the middle. With juice in the sippy cups and coffee in the travel mug, I entered the destination into the GPS. We were ready to make the pilgrimage to Grandma’s.

So over the river and through the woods we went.

A couple hours into the drive and after 100 renditions of Let it Go (yes, this is still a thing), the looming gray clouds started to darken, unleashing a torrential downpour. Water flooded the windshield, the wipers barely able to keep up. The two-lane highway looked like an impressionist painting, and my heart experienced that elevator effect. (You know, when your heart drops into your feet and everything feels a little shaky.)

Hands ten and two, I tried not to imagine us hydroplaning into the dark abyss. (Fatalistic much?)

I glanced up into the sky. Just beyond the dark clouds, blue skies were on the horizon.

If I kept going through the junk, lighter times were waiting.

I just had to keep my eyes straight ahead. No looking back, no distractions, just focusing on the blue skies.

The pounding rain was unsettling. It clouded my ability to see the road ahead of me. The rain was all I heard, all I felt, all I saw. I had to trust that it would stop — that the sun was there. That we were headed in the right direction. That eventually, the rain would lighten, and sometime after that, we’d find the sun.

Lesson learned.

One thought on “rain on the windshield

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