Indians, storms, and adventures in Corning
It had been one of those days at the bakery that turns us all into loonies. We seriously had been knocked off our rockers, and I almost lost it when I ended up serving three Indian Hindi speaking, non-chicken eating customers who had entered the shop when I would usually be locking the door. I really didn't mind it that much, it's just that I was afraid I would scare them off by doing or saying something stupid.
Thankfully, Nick and Kristine (my co-workers), were in the same boat as I was, so we all went crazy together. Somehow we managed to be super productive, but in the meanwhile, we discovered that I have a secret gifting as a therapist, eggs usually don't go very well in tea, and another way of saying, "I'm dehydrated" is by saying "I'm decapitated." No big difference, right?
Perhaps it was the craziness of work that made me do what I did. Whether or not that's true, we're going to go with it. I mean, what else would induce one to go biking straight into an electrical storm? I had just walked back from work and was quickly eating a bowl of rice and some other stuff which I've forgotten in my haste to be off on my way to the Christian Hope Center to watch a performance choreographed by my lovely friend, Emily.
"You biking over there?" my mother asked.
"Yeah," I said between a bite of rice and tying my shoe laces.
"Well, it's 100% chance of rain right now," she warned. I surveyed the sky but couldn't see a single drop.
"Eh, I'll risk it. If I get caught in the storm I'll just call you." With that, I snapped on my helmet and zipped off. Mom had hypothesized that I would be out-biking the storm, but turns out that I was actually biking into it. There's nothing quite as motivating as seeing a streak of lightning split the sky as you bike. It certainly makes for some speedy pedaling, I'll tell you that.
As the dark, foreboding sky grew even more ominous and maleficent, I decided to pick up my speed. This involved making a rather fun jump off of and onto the sidewalk. No big deal, at least, that's what I had thought. As I neared the church, the wind picked up and dust blew into my face. My pace was greatly slowed as the wind resistance pushed against me. Arriving, I parked and entered the building, safe at last.
The performance was incredible and as a perk, I got to see a lot of cute children celebrating their graduation into the next grade. It made me rather wish that I would have a graduation ceremony myself, maybe even give a speech, but graduating from online college probably means that I'll give a bit of a holler when I receive my diploma in the mail and that's about all. There won't even be a flowy graduation gown, but that's all tangential from the real meaning of graduation, right?
Once everything was said and done, I set out to head back home. My bike was a little damp from the "sprinkling" of rain that we had received during the ceremony, but it wasn't enough to dissuade me. I texted my Mom that I was heading home and began to pedal once more. Maybe I was real crazy though, 'cause I was sure that I had heard something pop. Unfortunately, I was still sane (though the veracity of that statement is yet to be verified) and my back bike tire had popped. Welp.
Being the wise person that I am, I decided I could make it home with no problem. Disregarding the fact that I knew you should never bike with a flat tire, I decided that tonight could be an exception. And it was all quite fine and lovely, right up until I was biking into the best, most notorious part of Corning: the infamous Bridge Street.
No sooner had I entered the aforementioned street. when my tire actually slide off of the metal wheel and I felt the back part of my bike skid and stop.
"Grand," I said to myself ('cause talking to myself is the least of my problems), "I am stranded in the middle of Bridge Street!"
I don't envision bad things happening that often, but when I do, they're always located on Bridge Street. It's nothing personal, but I've never really liked that section of town. I could see it now: me, a young, wet, and helpless girl, standing next to a kaput bike with nowhere to go. Suddenly, the Indian dude who didn't like chicken comes by and starts yelling at me in Hindi, kidnaps me, and sells me into slavery. Of course I would have used self-defense, but he would have tranquilized me with a dart gun, causing me to be utterly dead meat. Just like chicken.
Surprisingly, none of that happened. I called my parents, parked my bike, and continued praying that nothing awful would happen to me as thunder and lightning kept rolling around and cars drove slowly past. Honestly, it was all rather fun and though I wasn't super thrilled about popping my bike tire, it was an adventure, however small of an adventure it may have been, and that was good enough for me.
I could have been super disappointed about it all, but there's a certain level of joy which cannot be stolen when your hope is in God. I was thankful for the biking in the storm, the popped tire, and the wild imagination, because it reminded me of Who truly does protect and watch over me every single moment. He knows my comings and my goings, and He'll be faithful to bring me home. What a great Father He is to me.
Thankfully, Nick and Kristine (my co-workers), were in the same boat as I was, so we all went crazy together. Somehow we managed to be super productive, but in the meanwhile, we discovered that I have a secret gifting as a therapist, eggs usually don't go very well in tea, and another way of saying, "I'm dehydrated" is by saying "I'm decapitated." No big difference, right?
Perhaps it was the craziness of work that made me do what I did. Whether or not that's true, we're going to go with it. I mean, what else would induce one to go biking straight into an electrical storm? I had just walked back from work and was quickly eating a bowl of rice and some other stuff which I've forgotten in my haste to be off on my way to the Christian Hope Center to watch a performance choreographed by my lovely friend, Emily.
"You biking over there?" my mother asked.
"Yeah," I said between a bite of rice and tying my shoe laces.
"Well, it's 100% chance of rain right now," she warned. I surveyed the sky but couldn't see a single drop.
"Eh, I'll risk it. If I get caught in the storm I'll just call you." With that, I snapped on my helmet and zipped off. Mom had hypothesized that I would be out-biking the storm, but turns out that I was actually biking into it. There's nothing quite as motivating as seeing a streak of lightning split the sky as you bike. It certainly makes for some speedy pedaling, I'll tell you that.
As the dark, foreboding sky grew even more ominous and maleficent, I decided to pick up my speed. This involved making a rather fun jump off of and onto the sidewalk. No big deal, at least, that's what I had thought. As I neared the church, the wind picked up and dust blew into my face. My pace was greatly slowed as the wind resistance pushed against me. Arriving, I parked and entered the building, safe at last.
The performance was incredible and as a perk, I got to see a lot of cute children celebrating their graduation into the next grade. It made me rather wish that I would have a graduation ceremony myself, maybe even give a speech, but graduating from online college probably means that I'll give a bit of a holler when I receive my diploma in the mail and that's about all. There won't even be a flowy graduation gown, but that's all tangential from the real meaning of graduation, right?
Once everything was said and done, I set out to head back home. My bike was a little damp from the "sprinkling" of rain that we had received during the ceremony, but it wasn't enough to dissuade me. I texted my Mom that I was heading home and began to pedal once more. Maybe I was real crazy though, 'cause I was sure that I had heard something pop. Unfortunately, I was still sane (though the veracity of that statement is yet to be verified) and my back bike tire had popped. Welp.
Being the wise person that I am, I decided I could make it home with no problem. Disregarding the fact that I knew you should never bike with a flat tire, I decided that tonight could be an exception. And it was all quite fine and lovely, right up until I was biking into the best, most notorious part of Corning: the infamous Bridge Street.
No sooner had I entered the aforementioned street. when my tire actually slide off of the metal wheel and I felt the back part of my bike skid and stop.
"Grand," I said to myself ('cause talking to myself is the least of my problems), "I am stranded in the middle of Bridge Street!"
I don't envision bad things happening that often, but when I do, they're always located on Bridge Street. It's nothing personal, but I've never really liked that section of town. I could see it now: me, a young, wet, and helpless girl, standing next to a kaput bike with nowhere to go. Suddenly, the Indian dude who didn't like chicken comes by and starts yelling at me in Hindi, kidnaps me, and sells me into slavery. Of course I would have used self-defense, but he would have tranquilized me with a dart gun, causing me to be utterly dead meat. Just like chicken.
Surprisingly, none of that happened. I called my parents, parked my bike, and continued praying that nothing awful would happen to me as thunder and lightning kept rolling around and cars drove slowly past. Honestly, it was all rather fun and though I wasn't super thrilled about popping my bike tire, it was an adventure, however small of an adventure it may have been, and that was good enough for me.
I could have been super disappointed about it all, but there's a certain level of joy which cannot be stolen when your hope is in God. I was thankful for the biking in the storm, the popped tire, and the wild imagination, because it reminded me of Who truly does protect and watch over me every single moment. He knows my comings and my goings, and He'll be faithful to bring me home. What a great Father He is to me.
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