gentle reminders

My Miraculous Medal is missing. Again. I don't know when or where I was when I lost it. The medal was a gift--in so many more ways than one--and I feel a little lost without it now. The medal came on a bracelet (an unorthodox way to wear it, I know) and I remember sitting on the couch on Thursday evening thinking that I should tighten up the rings again. But I didn't. I figured I would do it over the weekend; Saturday after the swim meet, to be precise. I know the bracelet was intact on Friday morning when I put it on and at lunch when I took a walk to get my lunch from the fridge. Somehow I didn't notice the medal was missing until I was getting ready for bed.

To be perfectly honest, when I got the bracelet, I didn't know a whole lot about the Miraculous Medal. I knew it was beautiful, and I started wearing it. As I read 33 Days to Morning Glory, I began to understand the significance of the medal, and at one point, wondered if I was really getting anywhere in my faith journey, or if I was just going around in circles. That's the day I looked down and saw that the medal was missing the first time. I was at work, and nearly broke down in tears then and there. I was not positive I would be able to function for the rest of the day, retraced my steps, told a couple of coworkers that I had lost my Miraculous Medal, and was assured they would be on the lookout. Then I looked down and saw it, lying face up, at my feet, under my desk. I'm sure it was an answer, and I have moved forward with far less trepidation since.

Friday night, though, I did not panic. In fact, I felt a sense of calm--sadness, too, but not the debilitating pain I felt before. I'm looking for my medal, and have revisited the spots I went after work, will check around at the office tomorrow, but I have a very different feeling about it. My prayer to St. Anthony, the patron of Lost Things, is that it will be found, but my prayer to Mary is that it is found by someone who appreciates it, whether that be me or someone else. My life has been enriched through prayer--so much more than I thought possible--and that medal on my wrist has been a gentle reminder to me to pray. The habit is a bit more ingrained now than when I first started this phase of my journey, and the gentle reminders are all around me. If it's time for Miracles to happen, they will.