This morning at the all school Mass where my grade school children attend I looked down the pew and there sat a friend of mine with whom I went to grade school (this same grade school as a matter of fact). It was the anniversary of her mother's death and the Mass was being said for her. I was even more happy to attend. I loved her mother. Never just called me Julie, always Julie Dortch and now her daughters do the same. Still with my maiden name. Before Mass started I walked over to her and said, "For some reason, I feel the urge to speak to you through sign language." It was the way in grade school to talk during Mass and not get in trouble. This got me thinking about how God would go to any length to get His message through to us. Today Parables, some days a visit from His Mother, other days a priest with the stigmata, a wall coming down, a church being built, a conversion story, etc. etc. etc. All sign language. Isn't it awesome when we can read the signs? When we pay close attention? When we recognize the message? I lucked into a moment with an old friend and realized that God sometimes just wants me to remember to pay attention. Listen not only to what is said, but also to the unspoken sign.