Published On: August 12th, 2016By

As an RN, I was trained to resuscitate human beings. Unfortunately, I was never trained to revive a cell phone.

Last night, I dropped my cell phone into the running water of my bathroom faucet. I instantly went into panic mode at the site of the black screen on my suddenly lifeless phone.  Naturally, I turned to Google and You Tube for answers, scouring the internet for the latest methods of cell phone resurrection.

How was I supposed to function without my electronic lifeline?  The mere thought of being phoneless was enough to put a pit of worry in my stomach.  I couldn’t stand the idea of feeling disconnected from family, friends and the world, in general.  A string of anxious thoughts raced through my brain as I frantically buried my lifeline in a Tupperware container full of uncooked rice=which for future reference, is the phone revival technique that YouTube swears by.

Thankfully, the next morning, the feelings of isolation took a dramatic turn for the better when my twin boys, Samuel and Daniel offered up their sweet suggestions:

“Here Mom. You can use my cellphone if you ever need it.”

“Good thing we have a laptop at home so you can check your email and Facebook.”

“Don’t forget we have our home landline too!”

They were right. For the rest of the day, my heart was overflowing with a renewed sense of gratitude. It was comforting to know I had access to other forms of communication so that I could stay in touch with my loved ones.

On a quiet walk this evening, I compared the day without my cell phone to the experiences I’ve had since Mom  passed away.  Like my phone, my physical maternal landline is no longer in service. And just as  Samuel and Daniel encouraged me with their helpful remarks, God frequently redirects me with a gentle, ” Here, Marla. Enjoy the vivid dreams, loving thoughts, scents, sounds, red birds and roses that help you feel connected to your Mom.”

Remembering to stay grateful for these heavenly gifts gives me the fuel I need to get me through this time on Earth… until I see Mom, my original lifeline, face to face.

Faith and a Tube of Lipstick by Marla Lackey
Faith and a Tube of Lipstick by Marla Lackey