The Miracle of the U2 Ticket

Happy 2014! I have high hopes for this year because for me, 2014 is filled with uncertainty. I'm all set to graduate from the University of Utah with my second bachelor's degree in May. My first BS was in Elementary Education from Southern Utah University which never got me anywhere. I still have no idea what an English degree from Utah's most prestigious University might bring but it can't be any worse than food services or taking a job as a CNA.
I also have high hopes for 2014 that my love life might improve before the time bomb goes off later this year in September (that's when I turn 40) so stay tuned, faithful readers of this blog. I need a miracle (or two) this year and promise to keep everyone up-to-date on any major life changes like a new job or dating opportunity that leads to a serious relationship. Downton Abbey eat your heart out!

I decided if 2014 is going to be the year of the "Miracle Watch" I should acknowledge at least one current miraculous divine intervention that really strengthened my faith in God and became a source of great hope that miracles are possible and if I had to pick one major incident in my life that would have to be "The Miracle of the U2 Ticket," a story I never get tired of sharing. Let this be proof that miracles do happen, even to the least deserving.

The venue was Mile High Stadium in Denver, CO and the original plan was to attend the U2 concert with my sister, Mary, and her husband who live in my neighborhood, just a few blocks away from my apartment. Then Bono injured his back and the tour had to be postponed until May 2011. They ended up selling their tickets to friends while I arranged my own plane ticket and rental car. I've seen U2 alone before so I didn't mind yet another solo trip to see my favorite band.
It wasn't until I was flying along I-70 in the rental car from the airport into the city (a very long drive allowing much time for reflection on life and all its responsibilities) admiring the city skyline on my left when, suddenly the thought hit me, like ton of bricks, Did you remember to pack your concert ticket? No! The ticket was still in my closet, in a box of keepsakes, until the time came when it could be redeemed. I'd held onto it for so long, I'd completely forgotten to bring it with me!
Now, I'm not very consistent when it comes to personal prayer. As of this post, I've kind of given up on it. I figure it doesn't matter what I do because nothing ever changes for me and God is probably tired of me bugging him about such trivial things as a career or experiencing a serious dating relationship here on earth like so many other single women my age take for granted. I'm independent.
So, on that Friday, alone in my rental car, trying not to go into shock, I'm sorry to say I was NOT praying to God for help. I wasn't cursing His name either. I was cussing myself out for being such an idiot instead. There was no else to blame.
But for those who understand the blessing of the gift of the Holy Ghost, as I struggled to keep the car in check, trying not to freak out over what I was going to do now, just one thought kept impressing itself in my mind, Call Mary. I took the next exit, amazed to find myself on Federal Blvd with the Motel 6 where I'd planned to stay right in front of me. I pulled into the parking lot and made the call, still wondering how this was ever going to work out because even if Mary could somehow get the ticket, my place was locked up tight, Mary doesn't have a key and I was still 500 miles away.
All it took was a few phone calls: Mary just happened to be at home and immediately jumped in the car to head over to my place while I phoned my landlord who told me the maintenance guy just happened to be outside over at the property doing yard work, this very minute, and he would call him and give my sister clearance when she arrived. Mary phoned the friends they'd sold their tickets to who just happened to be leaving town, this very minute, passing by on I-15. If she hurried, she could meet them with the ticket and they would be happy to bring it with them as they traveled by car to Denver.

So it all worked out: I made friends in line that Saturday morning with some locals who offered to share their shelter with me while we waited all day in the GA line for the concert to start. We talked pleasantly, played cards, listened to U2 on my iPod, and shared pizza and snacks. My Utah friends arrived with my ticket and I returned the favor by letting them cut in line with us (after hearing the story, my new line buddies were totally cool with letting them in) and I led everyone to prime spots right in front of the band. I was the only one who had seen the show before (Las Vegas, Oct. 2009) so I knew where to go.
Holding that forgotten ticket in my hand, I marveled that such a trivial thing had come to pass. It was just a silly rock concert, after all. I probably would've lived if I'd just spent that weekend in Denver shopping or sightseeing instead. Found a scalper on the street and bought a lesser ticket in the bleachers. But it did happen and I did get to be just a few feet away from The Edge, singing my heart out. It was a humbling experience.
Miracles do happen and so I'm resolved to spend 2014 doing all I can to make another miracle happen, because I'm getting to a point in my life where I really need something more than just a U2 ticket to make life worth living.