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Repairing Mary (or, remembering what's precious).

There was a time when the incident I am about to describe would have sent me utterly reeling. But now, it's just a disappointment but not the end of the world.

I have one of those goofy memo boards in my kitchen. You know the kind with the felt backing and the little white letters? I bought it on clearance somewhere years ago and I usually post a verse or a quote from a saint or something. Below the memo board is our Google Home Hub, a pothos plant, a hand made wooden box that holds the letters (sorted by vowels, consonants, and numerals in zip lock bags of course..), a bottle of Holy Water, a ceramic Celtic cross that I have no idea where it came from, and my beautiful statue of the Blessed Mother that was a gift from my mother-in-law. All these things work for me - they are pretty, useful, and grounding. 

The verse that has been on the board since Lent was, "A clean heart create for me, God; renew within me a steadfast spirit." I left it up throughout the entire Easter season because, for one reason or another my Easter felt very "Lent-y" this year and I wanted to keep asking God to renew my spirit. 

I took the verse down a couple of days ago, though, thinking maybe this Sunday I would have some inspiration for a change, and I did. Pentecost. I remembered Archbishop Noll's motto, thought it would be perfect, and grabbed my copy of Champion of the Church by Ann Ball to find it. 

"In choosing the motto for his coat of arms, Mentes Tuorum Visita, Noll picked a phrase from an ancient hymn of the Church that invokes the Holy Spirit to visit, to come and dwell, with His divine truth, in the minds of men. Impelled by apostolic zeal, he translated his motto into action." 

I loved that. So I grabbed the top off of the box to start pulling letters out and tink. 

There it laid. Mary's little index finger. 

At first I thought it was the other index finger, the one that got tinked off a year or so ago in the same exact way. But alas, it was the last remaining perfectly formed index finger. I stood there for a minute in disbelief. 

I set her and her little finger to the side, and composed my letter board. MENTES TUORUM VISITA. Come here Holy Spirit. Visit us. Stay with us.


And then I set about repairing Mary. I tried the hot glue gun and that was a mess. I am out of superglue, so for a minute I was stumped. Then I remembered that I had just ordered some moldable plastic "glue" to try and fix some broken places on one of our outdoor plastic wicker chairs. Maybe that would work. With a tiny little ball of the moldable glue I was able to get the finger stuck back on, and somehow miraculously oriented in the right direction. Not perfect, but not bad either. 

There are lots of things in this house that I care far less about that are in perfect condition. They have value, sure, but they're not cherished. These "precious" things are precious to me not because they are perfect, but because they have meaning. 

I am disappointed that my statue has two broken fingers. But, Mary is always pointing us to Jesus. Just now I can think of it and smile.


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