Ever since Jenna and I first met, she has been insisting that a sunny day not be wasted by sitting inside. And if we absolutely must, then, "Please open the blinds and curtains. It feels like a cave in here!"
Jenna grew up on the beach. And having been to her hometown and seen her in her natural element, I can say with confidence she has spent at least a third of her life literally on the beach, in the sand, in the sun. Her dark skin is a testament to that. When we first met I asked her what ethnicity she was. "My dad's half black," she answered untruthfully. I nodded in response, "I knew it."
I grew up in the desert of Phoenix, AZ. We hid from the sun for survival. A "cave" was a retreat center from which we could enjoy everyday life. And my skin color is a testament to that. No one has ever questioned my ethnicity. So by the time we were married, I was mostly acquainted with this set of ideals that were so contrary to mine. I mean, we actually have some very decent sunny days here in Northern California. Then by a year and a half, I was fully converted, indoctrinated and even evangelistic about seizing the sunlight. The only downside to this belief was the shame that came along whenever I chose the cave to watch a movie instead of taking a walk by the river or the anxiety in my chest whenever I had to stay inside because of work or school. Those are the days I'd like to renounce my faith. Because I actually really enjoy movies and sometimes there is nothing you can do about the locational requirements of work or school. And some days I miss the cave. I mean, I was raised in a cave. My first kiss was in a cave. The first time I saw Fight Club was in a cave. You know ... the milestones.
Then there are days like today. It's pouring rain, there is no more blue in the sky and I have no choice but to hide. On these days I remember the good ol' times caves afforded me. I've got a steaming coffee in one hand, a good book in the other and a shelf full of my favorite movies just in case. I'm rediscovering my roots.
God did make the sunlight, what with its Vitamin D and all, but He also made caves. He could've made every mountainside flat and only given us the ability to build glass houses, but He didn't. He carved out little retreats centers with Welcome Home mats ushering you in.
