Signs In The Strangest Places

I’m a cradle Catholic. This means that I was born and raised in the Catholic faith. Not only was I born and raised Catholic, I was inundated with it. My parents actually wanted me to be a priest. If you asked them if they did, they would probably claim ignorance to this statement but I am sure there were many nights they prayed for God to call me to wear the collar. Unfortunately for them, I liked pretty ladies a little too much to commit to a life of celibacy.

Regardless of my stance against committing to a life of priestly duties, my Catholic roots still run deep and as a result I deal with Catholic guilt on a regular basis. Despite regular prayers to the contrary, I still feel as though I will burn (at least partially) for stealing all of my mom’s Victoria’s Secret magazines and hiding them between my mattress all through puberty.

So, I didn’t become a priest. I married a beautiful woman who also happens to be a model and instead of dolling out Eucharists, I dole out t-shirts. Not hardly the life I expected as a adolescent but I just so happen to love this job. I also believe I’m here doing this for a reason. I’m not quite sure what that reason is yet but the voices in my head tell me to “trust Him”. “Who” you ask? Well, God essentially.

I was afraid before quitting my 8-5 job but a calmness in my heart told me that “I can do this” and “to not be afraid”. The simple feeling of being taken care if I simply listen to my heart steadily helps me believe Someone has a plan for me. Can this be done selling vintage Snoop Dogg t-shirts and pre-owned London Fog coats? After my best month financially, I can confidently say “yes”. It has been hard work but it is possible.

I am constantly reminded there is more to this than t-shirts. It may be a passing thought or a connection to something that helps solidify my purpose. Usually, these are passing thoughts. Moments that only I really connect with that cannot be explained or that I wouldn’t even want to take the time to explain. They are for me and only me. But, from time to time, amidst fleeting moments of doubt and concern, there are connections that make me look over my shoulder to see if God himself is standing there beside me shrugging his shoulders and saying, “Stop doubting me you little dork”.

Which brings me to my story:

I’ve started picking ties. I find the uniqueness in ties to be similar to those of t-shirts. There are literally thousands of brands and designs and the profit on select ties, as with t-shirts, can be well over 10 times (or more) than what I purchase it for. So, I was in a swarm of ties the other day checking brand names and conditions when I happened upon a tie that had something in it. It felt like a coin and my mind immediately figured it had to be a gold doubloon. I quickly turned the tie upside-down and out fell this:

St. Christopher medal

That’s a St. Christopher medal. For those of you who don’t know, St. Christopher is the patron saint of travel and many people place these in their cars or, those who travel frequently, wear one around their neck. My guess is, whoever the tie previously belonged to, placed this inside their tie as means to not lose track of it. My father gave me a medal when I first learned to drive and I had it for many years until it broke and I lost track of it.

When you pick for a living, you find all sorts of things. When you’re in the business of sorting through things to find something good, you stumble onto stuff. So, perhaps this isn’t all that cosmically fantastic. But, I’ve been listening a lot more with my heart and my heart tells me there’s something to this. I mean c’mon… my name is Christopher for poops sake.

What does it mean exactly? I honestly don’t know but I have a feeling Someone is watching me and just letting me know to keep doing what I’m doing and He’ll take care of the rest. 🙂

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