To the people sitting near me at church this morning: there’d better be a good explanation for this.
I have no phone. It has either been lost or stolen. And if it was stolen, the scene of the crime was my pew at church. How fucked up is that?
And I was anxious enough about the discrimination and spreading of hate in the vestibule today, what with the petition to support the amendment to the Virginia state constitution that “the commonwealth shall only recognize a union between one man and one woman as a marriage, and shall not confer marriage-like status, qualities, rights, or benefits upon relationships of unmarried persons.” It just made me so sad that a faith that promotes the spread of God’s love to all people would prevent God’s people from spreading love to one another equally. I couldn’t think of anything else during mass. I don’t know if I will be going back to church any time soon. Unless, of course, they find my cell phone.
I don’t know what to do. I feel lost and isolated. Not to mention distracted. I feel vulnerable because if something were to happen to me in my home tonight, I have no way of reaching help. At least I have the internet, and this is a small comfort.
The last place I saw the phone was when I used my chapstick and replaced it in my purse right on top of the phone. I set the purse beside me after silencing the phone, and that’s where it stayed all through mass. Except during communion, when, like a large portion of other parishioners, I left the purse sitting half covered by my coat for less than two minutes while I received the body of Christ. It was not until about 3:30 this afternoon, when I thought James might have called to tell me he would be late coming home from work, thinking that I might have missed his call because my phone was silenced, that I checked my purse for the phone to find it missing. I checked my car. When James came home, I called my phone with his. I called and called. James checked the car. I gave up and tried to read.
I’m going to check the car again.