I was in the van with my caregiver. The sound of the constant raindrops was deafening. It was pouring outside, and the entrance of the church was twenty feet away. It seemed like a mile away between the car and the entrance.
My assistant pulled out two large umbrellas and we both did our best to stay close to each other. My wheelchair and communication device were at stake. I pushed the automatic door opener, and the door did not open. Are you kidding? I pushed it with some anger again and again. Within moments, a fellow churchgoer opened the door, and I flew in the safety of the dry building.
Once inside, I motioned to my caregiver to come inside. Typically, my caregivers drop me off at the door and get an hour to themselves. I coaxed her into the church trying to make this spectacle a little less dramatic (0% of that). It was going to be quite the spectacle regardless of anything I did. My joystick and communication device were soaked despite every effort we had made. My caregiver followed me into the building, and we quickly entered the restroom, and my caregiver understood my plan. She dutifully wiped all my equipment dry and assured me everything was dry.
We walked out of the restroom and the rain has completely stopped and the sun was streaming in. I typed out, "God, you could have helped us out" and we both laughed out loud. She went to the car to get some much-needed rest. I rolled into Mass with a chuckle thinking about how I have so missed these small adventures over the past year. Just then, I realized God had given me a great post for my blog.
Love,
Hannah!
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