Last week I suffered through a humiliating experience that completely blindsided me. In hindsight, I probably should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. I ordinarily don’t have any problems sleeping, but this particular experience left me so shell-shocked that I had trouble sleeping for several nights after it occurred. All I could do was lie in bed, rosary beads in hand, and alternate between praying the mysteries of the Rosary and the Divine Mercy Chaplet.
Over the past year I’ve gotten to know a young man who works at a local restaurant. (For the purposes of this discussion, I’m going to call him Rusty.) I see Rusty at least once a week when I pick up something to eat at the restaurant. Rusty is a devout Christian. He’s 36 years old, married, and has three children. He works hard, is honest, has a good attitude, and appears to get along well with everyone he comes into contact with.