Thanks For Opposites

It is a concept we teach our three year olds; black/white, hot/cold, up and down. In my prayer time today I arrived at a place where I found myself thanking God for opposites. The rain which I’d been waiting for arrived and I had the chance to enjoy a hike in it at forty-seven degrees. Walking in the brisk cold rain is exhilarating. I give thanks for the cold. Knowing how great it would feel to get home and crank the heater I give thanks for warmth. The rain begins pelting downward but I have on hat and insulated shirt. I am wet on the outside and dry on the inside.


Grey clouds blow across the vast expanse of the sky silhouetted only against darker grey. Under the big sky I hike a small and thin trail which winds through a grove of Willow and then follows the bed of a wash. I follow the trail which curves and winds then goes straight. Evidence of the summer flash floods is everyplace; broken, flattened fronds and dried river of mud; strong rushing force now weak, still and quiet. I give thanks.

My hike takes me up from the wash bed, crusted and uneven, to the wood trail smooth and flat. It dumps me into the parking lot. I throw wet hat and shirt into the trunk and get into the car. My gas gauge reads empty. I stop at a gas station on the way home and buy some gas. The tank now full I head home.