Waiting out the rain

On my way to work,

I have to stop at Allen Avenue, to wait out the rain.

Two children walk past, wearing Sterling Bank raincoats,

More prepared than I will ever be for the day’s task.

I have always been fascinated by rain.

Its ability to force you to a stop,

Water on your tight schedule,

Softening the knots.

It’s one reason I haven’t completely stopped believing in God,

And by God, I mean nature,

And by God, I mean the power of a hurricane,

And by God, I mean the unbelievable strength of a tornado,

Cyclone Idai went through Mozambique, Zimbabwe and Malawi, a clumsy child running through a glass door,

1,200 dead,

A million lives broken in pieces that will never be put together,

Why?

Nothing.

If that is not a metaphor for God

For all-powerful,

For all-knowing,

For Almighty,

Then I don’t know what is.

The Christians echo Elijah when they say God was not in the storm, and he was not in the fire. Then where is he?

I finally leave my seat and get into the first taxi, i see,

No one bargains in the rain,

Wabilahi Taofeek – says the sticker on the dashboard,

Maybe God only lives in stickers,

Even the rain can wash off.

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