A epic Parousian adventure took place tonight between Parousians Toby Danna, Emily Byers, and Michael Denton(that's me). These brave three decided to travel to Lafayette in my Honda Civic to a meeting of the UL chapter of the Parousians so that I could give my famous (or infamous) talk on Bishop Fulton J. Sheen's Life of Christ. The meeting went well as I didn't botch the speech irredeemably and the discussion turned out to be fantastic. So we left the meeting in good spirits. We decided to drive by the convent of the Carmelites, which is not too far off the way back to the interstate. We drove by, looked at the statues for a bit, and then decided to stop at a Gas station/casino for some drinks before hitting the road again.
Our drinks purchased, we got back in the car. I turned the key expecting it to do precisely what it's done since I bought the darn thing: start. It wouldn't. A few prayers and a few more turns of the key produced only the same result. Apparently God wanted to test us on how well we had listened to Sheen and his call to accept suffering as part of the Christian life. Hopefully we passed that test well enough.
However, accepting suffering still left us in Lafayette. So we needed a hero. A superhero if you will. And of course when one is in trouble around Lafayette, who else is there to call but our beloved cassock-wearing patriarch? So a quick call from Emily and a few minutes of being "sketched" out by the lady who kept walking outside to smoke and sorta stare at us and soon our beloved cassock-wearing patriarch, Fr. Bryce Sibley, drove in to the rescue. Except it wasn't our beloved cassock-wearing patriarch that came; it was our beloved car-jumping newly-shaven pajama-wearing patriarch. And of course as he always jump starts our thinking about God he jump started my worthless battery. And so we were off hoping to ride the I-10 on a prayer back to the Red Stick.
But the adventure was not to end there. For not too long after we had been on the interstate we saw a sign warning us that there was an accident 13 miles ahead on the bridge. We had a tough choice. Either we had to drive out of our way to avoid the wreck and hope the battery could last a long time in the middle of rural Louisiana or hope that the car wouldn't stall out while sitting in possibly stopped traffic. We decided to take the longer road. I can make it philosophical and say we took the road less traveled. After a stop at Waffle House for directions (and a very scary moment when the lights dimmed for a moment and seemed to dare us to return to the road), we were off on the winding roads of rural Louisiana. After driving by the farm that I stayed in in the weeks after Katrina struck we got back to 190 while praying the rosary. My car's battery held out thanks to the intercession of St. Raphael and Mary and we arrived safely (yes, even me. Sorry to disappoint). In case you're wondering, I tried after I parked my car, and yep, the battery is still dead.
So thanks to Fr. Sibley for rescuing us from the sketchy gas station and no thanks to Honda.
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2 comments:
Pray to your own patron saints, you louts.
St. Raphael is the patron of sojourners. We apologize if it seemed he abandoned his post watching over the Gainseville group, but it was for the greater good. I mean how else could I say you said everything I was thinking about Anna Nicole Smith, only better than I could say it. Welcome to the blog - we're better for having you.
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