They complain so very often about the length of my showers. What could I possibly be doing in there for a whole hour?
I’m thinking, to tell you the truth. The shower is no different than a rainy day. We think. We focus. My skin absorbs it like the sharp thoughts of the day, and it washes off me like the hope of the month. It drips down my face like the love of the year. It covers me like the agony of the lifetime.
In this sunshine state of Florida on this very summer, it rained like ****. God cries even longer than I shower for.
The only difference is God doesn’t get a water bill.