A funny thing happened on the way to the Market

The most beautiful thing happened to me the other day. I’ve spent the last several months trying to establish a farmers market on campus. It quickly became a big idea that was set into motion — and once I realized how set it was, there was no turning back. Last Thursday, the day of the Grand Opening, called for continuous clouds and a 60% chance of rain. Truthfully, I didn’t allow myself to dwell on this for more than a few seconds at a time, for the thought of it caused my head to ache. I had spent months and months dreaming of how the day would unfold, and clouds were never in my visions. I reached a point where all I could do was trust that God would handle the day–all of the preparations my team and I could’ve possibly done were complete.

I arrived on campus for a research presentation about two hours before the Market was set to begin. By the time I finished my presentation, it was raining pouring. I was equal parts tired and jittery from little sleep and multiple cups of coffee, so I couldn’t really focus on anything, not even the rain. I slipped out of my heels, pulled my raincoat hood over my head, and jogged lazily through the desolate campus. Somehow, it was a pleasant moment and the rain felt good on my feet.

By the time I changed into my work clothes, the clouds had started to blow away and create a sunny opening in the sky above the Market. It was a miraculous thing. Within thirty minutes, our vendors had unloaded and the Market day bustle began, just as I had envisioned it. All in all, it was a perfect spring day — full of music, surprised pedestrians excited to see this new market, and vendors who gladly sold out of their products.

This may sound saccharine, but the whole day made me feel incredibly special and loved. I wanted a sunny day, but I didn’t need it. Despite most odds and bets, it was given to me. In that one, small experience I was reminded to cast aside my impulses to seek control and become dispirited when things don’t pan out as I envision. I believe there’s a certain joy that only comes in experiences that are walked out in trust–perhaps even if you’re trusting unawares.

image via: papertissue.tumblr.com


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