Aviator Sunglasses Come in Handy in Matters of Spiritual Warfare.
I grabbed my purse last Saturday afternoon. With this simple action, Earth collided with Mars.
My purse was 16 ounces too light. An inspection revealed no wallet. The only thing close to that feeling would be losing a child. Especially, if the last time you remembered seeing the child was at Chick-fil-A at ten o’clock that morning. The last time I remembered seeing 16 ounces of faux black leather containing my life.
“I’m going to Chick-fil-A.”
Sliding into the car borderline manic, a situation I hadn’t thought of in years came to mind. One that happened on a Thanksgiving visit to family.
I pulled into a market to buy a potato. “Mommy” was the panicked cry from the back seat. My teenager, then four years old, had tied himself into a pretzel with the seatbelt. Each jerk for freedom tightened the belt as a slender boa constrictor around his midsection. I raced into the store and dragged out the butcher by his bloody apron. He unsheathed a 10 inch knife and sliced free my screaming son. Many hours later when picking up my purse, I experienced 16 ounces too light. The wallet had been placed on the car roof freeing my hands to wrestle with the seatbelt.
It was the eve of the busiest shopping day of the year. I was young. We were poor. I became completely unglued. But naive and poor, I didn’t cry.
Young, naive, poor people pray.
I pictured a cataclysmic spiritual battle for my wallet of all good and evil in the universe. (Told you, I was young.) “Dear God let angels encamp around my wallet. Have them cradle it in their angelic French-manicured hands safeguarding it from evil.” I prayed over and over.
This came flooding back standing at the Chick-fil-A counter last Saturday. No wallet had been turned in and the morning’s trash taken to the dumpster. Returning to the car, I put on sunglasses. Aviators come in handy if you should start to become unhinged in a Chick-fil-A parking lot. Especially if the Chick-fil-A parking lot has a dumpster holding your wallet. Then I remembered that long ago Thanksgiving coming home to a blinking answering machine light.
“I’m trying to reach Jamie Miles,” said a tentative voice. “I found her wallet.”
The nice man belonging to the timid voice had been visiting his mother for the holiday. Driving along a busy street, he saw something lying on the pavement. He passed by — then turned around.
Later his mother asked him, “That’s crazy. Why on earth did you turn around and go back to see what it was?”
He told her, “I had to go back. Something told me that it was very important and I needed to get it… no questioning why. So I did.”
Returning home last Saturday, I resolved once again to believe that good triumphs over evil. And to aid the forces of good in finding my wallet, I unleashed the Miles family bloodhound, my daughter, on the case. She found it. Well, her foot found it after she kicked into a pile of laundry on the floor.
Not only the young and naive whisper prayers of deliverance for 16 ounces of faux leather. Any deliverance is divine — whether by angel’s hand or the foot of a child.
Love this story for many reasons. Remembering that when something is out of our hands the best place to seek refuge is in the possibility of the higher power.
It’s comforting to remember a happy outcome when we are rent in half momentarily by a present moment nightmare.
Glad to hear the wallet was found, the deliverance delivered.
Don’t know about you but one of the best things about this age is that I get to go to the possibility and happy ending place much sooner than in younger, poorer days.
Gregory Anne ~ You are sooo right. That is one of the many blessing of aging a bit. Wisdom that things usually do turn out okay. But can’t say that I don’t still freak out — just not as often or as long. Take care.
[…] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Jamie Miles. Jamie Miles said: #Column …"Aviator Sunglasses Come in Handy in Matters of Spiritual Warfare." http://bit.ly/bueKbX […]
Jamie,
My gosh – we all lose those dang wallets which hold our entire lives in them…last time it was my dear sweeet daughter who had her wallet in a pocket, of all places – went to the movies, it fell out and was lost. Thankfully, it was also turned in, credit cards and cash intact. certainly restores your faith in mankind. Glad you got yours back.
Saw you running down the road the other day…..yo were in the zone and it made me smile. Did you run to Rutledge again??
kim
What a relief about your daughter’s wallet. Most of the time those things do work out ~ once again restoring faith in mankind. It has been so hot lately when I’ve been running, I am sure I looked zoned out. bye