I do not believe in saints.
I don’t, really. I don’t believe that burning a candle to Saint Jude made any difference whatsoever in my divorce when I thought I was going to lose my house, my dog, and everything that really mattered to me. But, I did it. In fact, I did it a lot. I think I have five or six of these Saint Jude candles around and I used to light them all and recite the prayer on the back of each candle as I lit them.
Prayer to Saint Jude
Most holy apostle, St. Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, patron of hopeless causes of things almost despaired of, pray for me. I am so helpless and alone. Make use, I implore you, of that particular privilege given to you to bring visible and speedy help where help is almost despaired of. I promise to be ever mindful of this great favor, to always honor you as my special and powerful patron. Amen!
Well, even though things turned out well there, I’m sure the Saint Jude candles had nothing to do with it. I’m sure. So, why bring it up? Well, funny you should ask….
As with most of my hopeless causes, it starts with a girl. Well, a woman, but when it’s a boy pining over her, they’re always girls. Do we ever progress beyond Junior High?
So, yeah, a girl. To say that she doesn’t know I’m alive would be too harsh, but I’m quite certain I’m not on her radar, so to speak. I’m forty and she’s, well, younger. I walk about a mile and a half four times a week, and I’ve been told she runs six miles virtually every day. I make her laugh until her sides ache. But, a friend told me that Chris Farley used to complain that no one wanted to have sex with the funny guy. Things do not look good for me at all, do they? But, still, I persist. Why? Because Saint Jude is my patron saint, I guess.
Time to start lighting candles, I guess.
“Most holy apostle, Saint Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus, patron of hopeless causes and things almost despaired of, pray for me…”
Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Get busy livin', or get busy dyin'.
--from "The Shawshank Redemption