Dear Cold-and-Rainy Week:
You thought you had me. You poured buckets of ice rain for three solid days, throwing in wind for good measure. You knew that would be torture for me after enjoying two evenings in the sunny backyard.
Your presence accented some sad news and threatened plans. You were relentless and undaunting. A bit of a show-off, actually. You flooded my yard and left ice on my car. You laughed in my face when I wondered how I would train for my upcoming race.
But I issued the battle cry. And I ran anyway.
And we played outside anyway, on soggy grass that was turning greener by the minute.
We handled the tough stuff with a greater reliance on God.
We did our homework at IHOP, just because.
In soup-and-stew weather I abandoned reason and ate lots of tropical food, enjoyed good wine and better friends, and even drank my water with a paper umbrella hanging out of the cup.
We didn't put the bikes back down in the basement after being set free only two days earlier. We just squeezed them into the corner of the garage, where they are waiting patiently for the clouds to part.
So, really Cold-and-Rainy Week, it was a nice try. But you didn't steal our joy. Not in this house.
Next week, try not to hog the spotlight and send some sun our way, will ya?