A story:
I was running yesterday. It was the first opportunity I've had to get outside and get some exercise since school started. I was running about town and found myself at Wall Park.
As I was running around the predestined path I became painfully thirsty, which is quite unusual for me. I started a search for drinkable water and as I looked up I saw an abandoned Gatorade bottle with some water in it. Being aware of all the germs that the bottle could contain, I began to look elsewhere.
Then I heard a voice:
"Do you have that little of Faith?"
"You're Right," I replied "Sorry."
I twisted off the cap and poured some water on my hands to rinse my face. I took a small swig, just enough to suffice until I returned to the apartment.
Something about me:
I love the sound of running water. I always find joy in relaxing next to a soft stream; sitting in a field of green (Psalm 23), maybe leaning up against a good tree that is willing to support me.
I also love the sound of a sink in the kitchen. It lets me know that there is someone there--that I am not alone.
I remember waking up as a child and hearing my father washing the dishes downstairs. At the time I would get frustrated with him for doing that while I was trying to watch cartoons. It would drown out the sound, so I would turn the television volume up. When he would turn off the faucet, my mother would get onto me for have the volume up too loud.
The sounds of other people give me comfort.
I pray for protection...
I pray for something to be protected from...
