The middle school girl runs over to me with a bucket of water.
Her hair is dripping wet and her clothes are soaked through.
I sit on the bench bone dry, and she runs over and throws the water onto me.
There is a second of stillness.
I see her face change for a moment- a flicker of fear in her eyes.
I imagine how she expects me to respond, I wonder if it’s the same way I expect people to respond when I step into an unknown space-
how I assume I will be wrong.
I smile at her and begin to laugh, her face thaws and softens into laughter.
She sits next to me.
We keep laughing.
In this moment, God is in the healing-
the water a beautiful baptism of risking trust.