St. Teresa and lint in my pocket

I usually carry a rosary in my pocket, especially when I’m at work. It’s not a good luck charm, don’t think that. I just happen to be devoted to this beautiful prayer, and sometimes I’ll start a rosary and get interrupted and will return to it later.

It means I have rosaries scattered all over the place. In my car. In my briefcase. In random pockets. Hanging on my computer screen. On the bulletin board in the kitchen. On a plaque my sister gave me. In my purse (um, I don’t use a purse very often). Several on my desk. Too much? You get the picture.

The rosary pictured is my go-to rosary…it’s short and the beads are spaced just right. It also survives a run through the washing machine quite well, lol. Who knew I was a connoisseur of rosaries? Makes me laugh a little, but it’s true. It fits my hand just right so it’s usually in the console of my car and accompanies me to work.

It also makes for mad dashes to the laundry basket when I forget to put it back in the console at the end of the day. That happened to me yesterday. I went to reach for the rosary in the afternoon and came up with lint. I had once again misplaced the rosary. Luckily, I had my handy dandy Steelers rosary hanging from the rearview (odd, you might ask? it doesn’t get much use, but daily smiles when I see it).

Anyway, the missing rosary led me on a wild goose chase through dirty clothes, stacks of papers, and finally, a little basket full of flash drives, holy cards, and paper clips. Oh, and a medal of St. Teresa of Avila that I have had for a couple of years and kept taking out and tossing back into the little basket. I think she finally had enough of me claiming her as my patron saint and not giving her any attention.

Sorry about that, dear Terry. I hope you like where I moved you.

 

“continue praying”

Oh boy. In the entertaining angels department, I just had a delightful little exchange with an elderly blind woman sitting quietly waiting on…I dunno. I don’t know where she came from or who she’s with…she’s just sitting outside my door. Waiting.

I went to pitch a few things into the shredder so I greeted her as I passed. I admit, the greeting was not very enthusiastic or even personal…just something that I tossed out from habit rather than conviction.

Shame on me.

So out the greeting goes, “How are you.” Not a question, just a statement released into the air.

“I’m blessed.”

It jolted me, as I was already 5 steps away from her when I heard it, and 10 when I processed it.

I turned around and went back to the woman, and I spoke again. She put out her hand to hold mine as we spoke, and I apologized for not hearing her. She told me that she hadn’t spoken.

O.o

I told her that I was sure she had spoken to me, and she asked what she said, to which I replied, “I’m blessed.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when it got interesting. She nodded, as if agreeing with the statement, and then shook her head no, “It must have been the Holy Spirit.” Satisfied with herself, she waved me away, saying, “Continue praying.”

Dude. I don’t even know.

 

 

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