The sky was rapidly dimming into a dusty black; the rumblings of approaching thunders could be heard. As the soles of my shoes resounded noisily on the pavement, raindrops began to form patterns onto the dry cement, on my capri pants, on my cheeks...
Suddenly the notion of walking home didn't feel like such a good idea.
Flashes of blinding lightning tore through the dark skies as I raced my way across the traffic. Scores of headlights shone on me; none stopped to offer assistance. The hell with them, a scared yet frustrated voice muttered inside me. All I really need now is Jesus. I am completely helpless now; funny how being in that situation always slides me closer to my God.
I had gone too far gone to stop; I was in the middle of nowhere. No shelter, nowhere to hide myself from the brewing rain. The only thing left to do was to press on, but I felt so tired, my feet were burning with fatigue and pain...
I climbed onto the overhead bridge. It was made of steel, and I kept slipping on them. Fresh tears sprang from my eyes, mixing with the teardrops on my face. The street lights shone in the gloomy darkness, almost as if they were cheering me on. I walked gingerly through the bridge and continued on my way.
At times I broke into a run, my sneakers splashing in the puddles of water on the pavement. At times, I tried to move my feet faster. But I never stopped. Not once. I couldn't. I knew I'd lose it the second I even try to take a breather.
An hour later I pushed through the doors into my apartment, my hair wet and clinging to my red cheeks, my chest heaving up and down dramatically. My sister brought me a towel and May offered me some food.
I made it.
But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.
2 Corinthians 4:7-12
