Saint Brian!

The alarm ripped me awake from a peaceful sleep. I turned over angry at the intrusion. Vacations are for sleeping in and enjoying yourself. Nonetheless, I had promised my wife that I would get up early and go with her to the beach. She wanted to catch a few pictures of the sunrise.

I fought getting out of bed and getting dressed, but I’m so glad I went. If for no other reason, I now have “A Get Out of Jail Free Card” — excusing me from chores around the house for the rest of eternity. I found out that, yes, I’m a saint. Kind, patient, and unselfish? Who knew? But think about it, can you really ask a Saint to take out the garbage? Or to pick-up milk from the store?

A saint in your presence

Here’s how it happened. Halo iconography has been used throughout the ages. Ancient artists and painters have painted halos over the heads of holy or sacred people. When we went to take a selfie in the early morning sun, my Apple iPhone in its infinite wisdom placed a halo over my head in many our beach shots. Let me repeat, Apple didn’t place one over my wife’s head – just over my head. Take a look for yourself.

I suspect the whiteness had something to do with the white balance or exposure. I’m sure if I researched the problem more I could have solved it. But who am I to get in the way of God’s almighty hand? He pointed to me: Saint Brian.

Hallelujah. Praise the Lord. And pass the salt.

The Saints come marching!

I might be a sinner. I might have fallen more times than I care to admit. God still pointed to me. He calls all of us to be saints, but when the chips were down he gave me the halo! Oh, there are a few pics where the white spot is kind of over my wife’s head too. However, there’s no question that it’s over mine. I could tell you that Heaven opened up. A choir of angels exhorted my Sainthood. But I can’t say that.

In reality, the tide kept coming in and going out. The waves kept crashing. The sun made its slow gradual rise. It was beautiful, but I’m sure some would tell you it’s been that way for eternity. I felt the same as I had the moment before. That doesn’t change things though.

In fact, I’m writing the church to question when I can start using my saint title. It has to have certain rights and privileges, right? Yea, yea, my wife reminded me that there are official rules. In the Roman Catholic Church, a person must be dead to be recognized as a saint. They must have lived a life of heroic virtue. They must also be credited with at least two miracles after their death. The process, called canonization, is lengthy and involves verification of the miracles, and a declaration by the Pope.

Details schmetails. I hear all the rules. I get it. But I have my proof right here. There’s me. And then there’s my halo.

Tryin to make a living

For the record, I would be the first Saint Brian. I checked. I found that Saint Edmund Arrowsmith was a Jesuit priest who ministered in England during a time of religious persecution. He went by “Brian” before taking Edmund as his confirmation name. Another martyr Brian Lacey was given the title of being blessed. Outside of those two, though, the pickings are slim for Brians. I guess that makes me special. Go Saint Brian, it’s your birthday!

God wanted there to be a Saint Brian and I was at the right place at the right time.

For $20, I’ll autograph a picture for you. For $100, I’ll even take a selfie with you. No guarantees though on the halo effect working in our pic. I know that doesn’t sound real saint like, but a Saints gotta make a living. It’s tough getting by out there. We can’t all be like Saint Nick or Saint Patrick or one of the apostles.

What do you think? Will I be marching in with the real saints? Do you think I have a case for Sainthood? For the record, the sunrise pictures were pretty awesome too.