April 2, 2016 – a bone from the forearm of St. Jude is in the silver case in the foreground as communion is prepared. A first class relic, touching our wedding bands to the relic means they are now 3rd class relics. At St. Michael the Archangel in Snohomish, Washington.
Our parish now has on display a copy of the icon of the 21 Coptic Martyrs of Libya. I also learned today that the commemoration date for their murder at the hands of ISIS is my birthday.
I took communion as a Catholic for the first time last night, and helped baptize six as well (following in my Dad’s footsteps, except not the Catholic part.) We were told that the baptism tank heater had failed, and I was at first anxious about how cold the water might be (especially as I heard person after person gasp as they put a hand in the tank before the service) but I decided I was sick of worry, and asked God for a small miracle (I was going to be in the tank the longest, since I would be dunking each person.)
When I stepped in the tank, it wasn’t really that cold at all. No really, I’m not kidding.
I can get wrapped around a post ruminating on why epically bad things happen without divine intervention, and small miracles make no sense when the rest of the world is boiling, but there it is. A small miracle, maybe two — when I prayed for the water to not be cold, I also prayed to stop catastrophizing about it and I did.
Then again — me not worrying — maybe that is a not-quite-small miracle.