I WAS SAVED FROM THE BLAZE BY A MISUNDERSTANDING

Another 24 hours have passed without flames licking at my door. I have red marks on my hands from praying my Rosary. 

A little while ago I was moving and looking for a new place. I'm a transplant from County Cork and have lived in L.A. for 6 years now; and have seen my fair share of a city that is a conglomerate of 87 cities. The term "urban jungle" does not come close to  the City of Angels; as myriad to the human mind as the billions of good and bad angels, the enormity of L.A. is also confounding. 

 At the time of my move, I very nearly asked a friend to put me in touch with their good friend so I could move to Pacific Palisades! But something, the Hand of God I believe, always held me back. It was like a forcefield that kept me from making the request; and I'd probably have done so but there was also a misunderstanding with my friend-of-a-friend, and they had felt slighted by me. I've not been able to make it right, and had the misunderstanding never occurred, then my acquaintance would have become a good friend, and I'd never have had to ask; they'd have invited me to live in the Palisades. He has done very well for himself and is often in the public eye, but is a very generous sort who has helped our mutual friend greatly. 

I have sensed a certain...schadenfreude that the seat of sin and celebs is getting torched; but let's hold in mind that there are (like the above) good people who are also high-profile. Mel Gibson lost his 14.5 million home, but is resolute that he's finishing the Resurrection movie. And there are many more "ordinary" Mexican abuelitas, the mighty matriarchs who are always praying to Our Lady of Guadalupe or "Lupita" and they are also victims because the homes they cleaned are now burned to the ground. Lots of them have been in touch to say they are praying for me, and you can imagine how many are giving such succor to the tens of thousands that are in their maternal embrace. 

I write while the sky looks frothy with smoke, like the head on a Guinness only much darker. I'm at a safe distance, thanking God for the misunderstanding, and able to pray for those who are under a pulsating orange sky like the dome of hell. 

There is the white-noise of cell phones pinging with emergency alerts, the constant whirring of helicopters, roars of fire brigades being deployed and the whoosh of cars crammed with evacuees flooding the highways like in disaster movies. We're all like refugees now, waiting with bags by the door and sleeping in our clothes. 

Americans always warned me the people of L.A. are crazy, but maybe it's you have to be crazy to stay. Still I have this calling to be here. Please join me, from wherever you are in offering the Rosary. 

***

The photo was obtained from Wikipedia Commons and the classic work of art was executed by Quentin Matsys. You may get The Secret of the Rosary at the Spirit Daily bookstore.