Today I remembered the post I wanted to make yesterday. I also can't remember the last time I actually wrote something about my spiritual journey, so today I'm not taking my sabbatical. But that's ok too. I should probably get on trying to do better with my Lent blog, seeing as there's only three weeks or so left.
One of the first weeks of RCIA, we learned about this neat little prayer that was suppose to evoke the help of St. Andrew to help you find lost things. I thought it was kind of interesting, but I haven't really tried it. It's just one of those things that stick with you for some reason. Then yesterday I completely lost my cell phone. I mean, this sucker was gone. It was on silence on top of everything else, so there was absolutely no chance of finding it. I had been all over the house, I'd cleared off every table, I'd gone through boxes and garbage cans, I'd looked in cushions and on the floor. It. Was. Gone.
In a fit of desperation and complete giving up, I used that little prayer from RCIA. Not two minutes later, my Dad walks into another room and comes back with my cell phone. It had somehow made its way into our basement. Go figure. I'm convinced cell phones are evil buggers that try to lose themselves when it's least convenient just to make our lives miserable. That's on top of going off at inappropriate times, failing to work properly when we need them to, and arbitrarily dying when you absolutely have to make a phone call to name a few of their delinquent behaviors. While I'm not saying a Saint had nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon than to come down into my house and find my misbehaving electronic device, it was rather coincidental...and bears watching.
Although if there is a Saint that wants to come down and finish my homework for me like a magical shoe-making elf, I'd be very grateful.