Tags
Blessed Mother, blessings, broken arm, Catholic, prayer, Rosary
Sooooooo, my clumsiness has finally caught up with me. Friday afternoon I was trying to sneak a birthday surprise for the Big Boss into the office so I opted to come in through a back door carrying a large box. (Shhhhhhh…it’s still a surprise!) Unfortunately, trying to be sneaky means that I was also trying to hurry while flying under radar. Mistake. My mom can (and gladly will) attest to my lifelong lack of coordination.
Mickey held the door for me while I scurried in…and down. Before I knew it, my foot had stopped but my body had not. I stuck out my free arm (thankfully, the left) and instantly felt the impact of the cement through my wrist, up my arm, and into my elbow. I rolled over, cursing myself for being so careless and wondering if I had broken my arm. Then I instantly remembered how happy I had been, jumping and squealing in Jill’s office, just hours earlier when my appraisal on our house plans had come in. Laying on my back in the stairwell, looking up alternately at the ceiling and Mickey, I vowed that despite my present condition this was STILL a good day.
There is so much more to this story than I can type with one hand: the chance circumstance that made Dom show up at my office just moments after my fall, Jill making me go to the hospital, the doctor sweetly telling me that she believes I broke my elbow, and then her personally escorting me to an orthopedic consult and explaining when we remarked on the exceptional level of service, “I saw that you work for the Diocese. I figured that was the Holy Spirit telling me to take care of you.”
To me, that sounded like an answer to every prayer I could pray: Don’t worry…I got this!
He’s had my back a lot lately.
I recently began a morning prayer exercise – the Rosary, to be specific – to offer all my intentions (“prayer requests”) and those of my family and friends. I have two apps that I use during this time: a rosary app and a prayer list app so I can keep up with everything. So, yes, I’m fiddling with my phone while I’m praying. This morning my phone rang at 6:35 during the fourth decade of the Glorious Mysteries. I growled a little at the interruption, saw that it was my son trying to FaceTime me from his iPod, and rationalized that I could take a tiny break and answer it. I was behind closed doors, after all, to block out the morning noise. And they all knew I was praying. What gives??
The camera showed Aaron standing in the kitchen downstairs. He was helpfully doling out everyone’s multi-vitamins. “Hey, Mom. Sorry to interrupt you. Do you still need to take some Advil for your arm? I’ll set it out for you if so.”
Omigosh.
I shared this story with Mickey, who teared up and informed me that that was a hug from Mary.
I see the signs, but I am only human, so time and time again the message has to be reinforced for me.
He’s got this.
