I took my current crochet work-in-progress with me to the Mother Ship this morning so I could work on it. And given that I carried it in inside a zipperless bag, I hoped that the rain would hold off until after I was ready to leave.
The sky was grey and the atmosphere felt primed to release its bounty when I stepped back outside, but it held off as I bustled back to my car. I put my bag on the passenger seat and opened the rear door to place a cup of water in the boys' cup holder. And then, as I closed myself inside with a click a moment later, a cascade of fat drops splatted against my windshield. Phew.
I looked over at my (dry) project and breathed a prayer of thanksgiving for the timing. The experience reminded me that God cares about the little things.
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