August 9: Lost Keys

This afternoon has kind of sucked.  Actually, it's more than kind of sucked.  It has really sucked.

I lost my keys this afternoon.  These are the keys to every place I work, my house, my parents' house.  I have been tearing out what little hair I have left looking for these keys.  I've turned my house upside down.  I've torn through both of our cars.  I've rewalked the route I walked this morning with my family.  I called the hotel where we went swimming this afternoon.  It has been three or four hours from hell.

I have gotten down on my knees and prayed several times.  If you know me, you know that I am going to drive myself insane until those keys surface.  I can't think of anything else.  Now, if I were a true and trusting Christian, I'd sit back, relax, and tell myself that God will help take care of things.  I haven't quite reached that point yet.

I have prayed to Saint Anthony, the patron saint of lost things.  Saint Anthony has never let me down.  I mean never.  I pray, and Saint Anthony delivers.

Saint Marty needs help tonight.  A lot of help.

C'mon, Saint Anthony.  I need some help tonight.