prayer more waterproof than any umbrella

I was cajoled into an instant bad mood this morning when I stepped out of the house and found it to be raining on my head. A swift u-turn took me back into my flat where I discovered that I did not have an umbrella to speak of to save me from the bloody London weather, beyond the protection of Flat 11’s walls.
I marched, huffing, to the bus stop where Ian (bless him for putting up with my moody rants) was greeted with instantaneous moaning about the foul weather. The refuge that is Starbucks was enough to comfort me for as long as it took to down a latte and then it was back out into the miserable day and once again my demeanour reflected an appropriate mood. Call it what you must, vanity if that is how you perceive it but, I hate having bad hair; I feel under-dressed and it just ruins my day.
So, I sent up a little prayer and asked God to please get me to work without looking like a wet dog, on arrival. And would you know, I got to my desk and the first thing a colleague said was, ‘You’re looking remarkably dry’. HA! Who needs an umbrella when you know the one who created the rain?