A few days ago, I lost the television clicker. I do not watch much television, except for the daily news on PBS, or Masterpiece Theater on Sunday evenings. If someone phones me or comes to the door, however, I have to clamber over the couch, lean against the back of it, and reach around the side of the TV to feel my way to the correct button to press to turn it off or lower the sound.
Not only is it painful to perform these antics, but it is also not entirely safe, as I have had problems getting back up, once I have fallen to the floor, which happens occasionally.
Every day since that darn thing disappeared, I have spent some minutes rifling through drawers, cabinets, book cases, boxes and every other area I could imagine - looking for the television clicker - to no avail. I could not find it anywhere, looking twice or even THREE times in some places, such as the folds of the recliner, where I spend a good bit of time.
Finally, today, I had a conversation with GOD, and this is how it went:
I was standing in the middle of the living room - exasperated. I had looked in SO many places, and I couldn't find the darn thing. It is unlike me to give up on ANYTHING, but it had been many days, I was in a lot of pain, and I could not tolerate the prospect of spending money on a new clicker, only to find it somewhere arcane at a later date. My parsimoniuos nature rebelled at the idea.
It was time to take the dog out for his morning walk, but I decided to check the living room recliner AGAIN for that clicker. Sometimes, things get lost between the cushion and the arm or down the back of it, between the backrest and the seat cusion. I had already checked it throughly, but I tried it again - quite firmly and comprehensively. I pushed my hand down as far as it would go and checked every inch of space around the cushion. It was not there. It simply was not.
It is a very windy morning. The Arctic blast that has brought us freezing temps and snow for the last week or so has kicked up again, with the wind at about 25 miles per hour. I slipped on my parka, got the service dog into his adorable little down jacket, and braved the elements so he could have his morning constitutional. I hadn't even had my first cup of coffee because my insomnia had me running late again.
After a rather brisk and bracing meander to the mail boxes, I came home, unleashed the dog, and had him sit on the couch for his morning biscuit treat. When I turned away from him and faced the recliner, this is what I saw:
I was dumbfounded. As I have described to you, this clicker was not in the chair when I searched for it - and it certainly wasn't laying neatly on the cushion in this manner.
I had searched in the bowels of that chair several times already, and, in fact, I SLEEP in that chair and would most certainly have felt that uncomfortable object. But no. It was not in the chair when I left the apartment, but it was there when I returned, as if it had dropped out of the sky.
Processing this is going to take me some time, but it is almost comical, isn't it?
What I think is happening is that God is showing me that He is here with me, in even the smallest and most mundane and petty little frustrations of my life - that nothing is too small to seek his help and that all I have to do is ask. "Don't be so stubbornly independent. Don't hesitate to ask Me to help you," He seems to be saying.
Sceptics will try to dismiss this miraculous occurrence by positing something pedestrian. They will have to invent some insanity on my part - or perhaps some pervasive and extreme lack of attention. Perhaps they will assume that some quirk of physics made this chair belch up the clicker from its innards, or that "someone" simply came and dropped it there. None of this is true, of course. I practically assaulted that chair, with surgical precision, just before walking out the door, I am not insane, and I live alone.
Yogis would likely recognize this as just another example of yogic powers that come to a person after spending decades in solitary, concentrated meditation and prayer.
New Agers might attribute the appearance of this item to the obedience of the physical world to the intention of a spiritual adept.
The deeply cynical will assume I invented this story for some self-aggrandizement, in which case I would say that if I was going to invent a miraculous occurrence, I'd use a good deal more imagination and concoct an apparition of the Virgin Mary giving me some Divine Mission to the world that would make me look very special and important, instead of ridiculous. After all, what would we call my present tale? "The Miracle of the Missing Clicker?" It is ludicrous!
Christians, on the other hand, might easiy see this event as a response from the Divine to one of His beloved children.
Whatever is the "color" of the mind of the person reading about this is the color they'll paint it, but if there ever was a time when the assistance of the Lord is needed, it is NOW, during a worldwide pandemic in a situation of extreme political division and unrest, with global climate change causing freakish storms and temperatures that burst the water pipes and freeze the unprepared gizmos that bring power to houses in surprising locations like Texas! We NEED every hint of transcendence we can get right now, so I, for one, am not throwing this away.
I send love and encouragement to you all. Hang in there! Our dark days will pass and, in the meantime, remember that the Lord is with us, loves us, and hears us when we entreat him for His Divine assistance.
Sannyasini Kaliprana
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