Breeze: (n) a gentle wind.
I had absolutely no right or wisdom in hopping into a brown Dodge van and heading off from Ohio to Oregon.
I was twenty-one years old, had a music group and was convinced that the only way to prove to myself or anyone else that this was a viable occupational choice was to go out and try to make money doing it.
In my not-yet-formed brain, the logical step was to drive to Oregon, where two people had promised us a place to perform–as long as we understood there would not be much money.
Who could pass up such a bonanza?
I have mercifully had most of the trip wiped from my memory and relegated to oblivion–but I do remember driving through South Dakota, where the temperature had soared well over 100 degrees, and being so hot in our un-air-conditioned confines that we stopped in a small town at a public pool to cool off.
Even though the sun was blistering and scorched our skin, the water was ice cold, so we were a little deceived by the fact that we were actually being poached.
I got the worst sunburn of my life.
It was so bad that when we went to the drug store and bought one of those spray treatments, my hot skin turned the liquid into little scraps of paper.
I was miserable.
On top of that we had no money–procuring lodging in a motel was completely impossible.
So we found a park just outside that little town, pulled the van over, opened up all the doors, perched on some bean bag chairs we carried with us, and lay there, broiling in our burnt flesh, surrounded by humid air.
I was so miserable that I prayed.
I didn’t know if I wanted God to kill me or peel me like an orange.
About twenty minutes after I finished my little supplication, a breeze came up.
I will never forget it.
Because my skin was ablaze, the air was chilly–and felt so good. That breeze stayed with us all night long, so we didn’t swelter in our van or die of sunburn.
Now, some people probably would say that wind was a natural phenomenon of the South Dakota wilderness.
Others might insist there were three exhausted angels blowing in our direction all night long.
It doesn’t really matter what you believe, because God made the breeze … just as surely as He made the angels.
Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) — J.R. Practix
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