Raindrops and errands

I knew it was going to rain heavily the moment I step out of the house.

I see big fat drops of rain committing suicide on the front porch's cement floor. Darker spots of water splatter appear as if magically.

I knew I had to go to Jaya One despite the weather, so ignoring the sign, I headed out with a small umbrella. hehe.

Crossing the road, walking down the flat escalator, taking note of how hard rain is falling now, wondering how on earth am I going to get back, printed notes, bought a cake, looking out of the tall glass windows and wondering if I should stay inside Cold Storage a little while until the rain softens, then deciding that I wouldn't because I'm such a bad a**, I can walk through any kind of rain. Hailstorm? Bring it.

It's interesting to note how fast that boastful thought fade by the time I reached the opposite of Old Town.

I was standing inside Jaya One (under the roof = safe zone), but facing the great outdoors.
The rain was intense. As in, I can literately see a white filament of water splatters everywhere outside the safe zone.

I dunno what exactly got into me, maybe it's a sign that I'm getting old, but I decided the stop walking, and just stand there, leaning on the wall.
I place the small umbrella on the floor beside me.
With my pink plastic file clench closely to my chest, I just felt at ease.

Isn't it ironic? Usually on any calm bright sunny day, this kind of place is the least likely place for me to feel at ease. I would be rushing back home, mind focusing on nothing but assignments.
But today, with the loud pouring rain outside the safe zone, I felt totally normal just leaning by the wall at a public area.

Two businessman walked pass me. One of them walking ahead of the other. I notice the second man had splashes of raindrops on his formal shirt. Coming back from lunch? I concluded quickly as they breeze by. They didn't seem to notice me. I smiled.

Funny how people seem too busy to notice things around them.

Rain doesn't seem to want to slow down. It splashes violently on the ground. Puddles and streams appear.

I wonder what made me feel so comfortable. And then I remembered the lyrics to a song:

"When the oceans rise and thunders roar,

I will soar with you above the storm,

Father you are King above the flood,

I will be still and know You are God."

Yeah, I may be taking the lyrics too literately, but isn't it true? The last line.

As I stare out at the crazy downpour, as I notice how each drops of rain creates a unique pattern of splatter on the ground, as I view the big picture and observe how every drop of rain is creating a different sound/visual/smell, I am overwhelm by the knowledge of the One who made rain.

I guess after living in a big city, with a schedule-packed life, it is so hard to find time to really be still. Literately be still and know how small we are.

And know that He is God.