Benjamin was building with Legos the other night when a piece fell down into the cracks of his chair. He was resourceful enough to push it aside, and even turn the rocker on its head, but the brick did not emerge. John stepped in to help by digging around in the belly of the recliner, and a sound of triumph escaped his mouth. My first thought was keys, but those have been AWOL for so long I dared not admit it. John smiled as he jangled the ring which held not just one but three magic metal openers.

 

There was an era when each of our three cars had multiple sets, but those have played hooky for days or months at a time. Now we are down to a slender single per customer. One set eluded us for most of a year, and the car sat marooned in the driveway staring at us. An icon of our ineptness to hang on to things of importance. I made a few inquiries with the dealer, exploring having it towed to Scranton to have it rekeyed, but the towing alone was prohibitive. Finally, when we had stopped looking, someone poked their hand into the pocket of a winter jacket and there it was. 

 

I realize that keys themselves are becoming obsolete. There are cars that use a button to wake up, which is astonishing. But I will stay vigilant about hanging up the rings in our possession, so that we can arrive where we want to be. 

 

There are times when my relationships get locked up. Even idling in neutral is out of reach because of resentment or unmet expectations. When my executive function is engaged, I can manage to rumble affection back to life with keys like appreciation, or humor, or prayer. Sometimes God steps in to turn my ego upside down by allowing me to fail in precisely the same fashion that I am criticizing someone else. 

 

When I reach into my mind's pockets, I can reclaim memories and warmth that God kept safe both for me and from me. Then I can find the impetus to get to places I truly want to be.