Well, well, well! Ms. Elsa jrap suhn seerus waata pan di likkl rok yah yessideh! Today is Monday and I am sitting in my study before a large window. I can see the branches of the neighbor’s mango tree, gyrating in an unrehearsed tango, as the gentle breeze assumes the lead, in a dance, choreographed by nature. What I’m experiencing from this vantage, is a manifestation of the hope, uttered or unexpressed, that many of us held yesterday; it is conveyed in the words of a song from the musical Annie: “The sun will come out tomorrow; bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there’ll be sun!” Although the sky is clear of clouds, at least from where I am, I can still see if I strain my neck far enough, a section of darkness that predicts more rain. This is just a pause…until the next time.

I was intent at the weekend, on not doing any binge buying. Forecasts, watches and warnings chronicling Elsa’s movements had me concerned but I was not about make wholesale purchases for a household of one on a pocket of zero, if you get my meaning. A quick glance in the freezer and cupboard, assured me that I had enough to last about two weeks and so all I needed and eventually got was water.

Truth be told, Ms. Elsa was a lot kinder than anticipated, so this morning as the sun’s rays spread ever so gently across the greyish blue sky in a little game of hide and seek, I raised the unseen cup of my heart’s gratitude to God who, for the umpteenth time and in tandem with the Blue Mountain range, secured another bligh for us, here in Jam. I am conscious of the fact that not everyone is as fortunate as we are, heralding a call for even more gratitude, with intercessions on behalf of those in other island-territories, now reeling from the devastating onslaught of Elsa’s fury. May their recovery be speedy and full.

The foregoing notwithstanding, If I never knew before that God has a wikkid sense of humor and know ow fi flex, yessideh that side of the Omnipotent One tun up big time! I was at my computer working at completing some deadlines [dat mait kil mi ded if mi nuh toa di lain]. I was in two minds about cooking, although I had taken the parcel of chicken from the freezer, cut and seasoned the meat, with the intention of doing so. Long story short, I got up from the computer, having arrived at a point in the work where diminishing returns had begun to move from a creep to a brisk walk. I went to the kitchen and as I would normally do on a Sunday afternoon, tuned in to my favorite KOOL 97 FM station for company. Well…I caught the tail end of the show that ended at 1:00 and was in time for KOOL Memories with Narda Manderson as host and Mikey Thompson spinning.

Mek me tell yuh; dem two de choa dung suhn seerus music, me nevva evn noa wen mi dun cook – peppered chicken, yellow rice, steamed veggies and fried plantain – di wie ow me a sing an dance. Even though it was raining outside and looking like night was approaching, my little kitchen was miraculously transformed into a bright, bright dancehall! I was treated to a feast of John Holt, Bob Andy, Dennis Brown and Bob Marley that mek me nearly nevva eat wa mi cook [though that wouldn’t have been a bad idea]. Still, I finished my cooking and pleased with the results, wondered in my heart…with whom I could share this meal.

Believe me when I tell you I was just finishing the plantains having turned off the flames from under the rice, veggies and chicken, rocking with back pain-be-dammed abandon and at the same time thanking God for the lull in the downpour, when I heard the familiar call…”Mummi!” I looked up from the frying pan to see my adult son, the one I did not give birth to, but whose obvious need, has spawned within me, a deep desire to help him, whenever and however I can. Smiling, more so at God whose sense of human and humor   never ceases to amaze me, I told son that it would only be dinner today, to which he replied… “Yes Mummi” There was unbridled joy on his face upon receipt of the bag inside of which was the container with a healthy serving of the hot food. Waving his thanks he walked away, just as light drizzle, signaled the end of the lull. 

Now, as I mentally reconstruct the hours of yesterday, pulling back the morning’s gloomy curtains, stepping into and trying to keep pace with the joy-filled rhythms of the afternoon, I know why, as I settled in for the night’s rest, there was a feeling of contentment…the kind that’s difficult to explain. Elsa had blown her way into our lives and would have wreaked more havoc than she did, but for the staying hand of the One who invited me to experience in pulsating Jamaican rhythms and the grin of a hungry man, with a hot meal, a different calm, in the midst of a storm.

Well, whatever happens between now and then, until next week, let us continue to stay safe and well, as we remain in His grip.

Grace+