Lost and found

She was a small framed woman.  Her face and her body showed signs of aging. She pushed a cart through the Walmart parking lot slowly, her head turning from one side to the other. 

"What color is it?" I asked.

"Silver with a 'salt life' sticker on the back windshield.  I thought sure I parked on aisle 5," was her reply.

I could easily empathize.  More and more I leave my car, absolutely sure that I know exactly where I parked only to make my way back and find myself in the same predicament. 

"Where in the world did I park?"

Or where did I put my keys, or my cell phone, or my sun glasses?

My most common response to this problem is to whisper a little prayer.  It's something that was instilled in me as a child.  I might say something like "Lord, you know where what I have lost is - and I would appreciate it if you would lead me in that direction".  Not much depth in my prayer and yet I believe...and most of the time I'll find what I am looking for.

I served communion at a memorial service recently.  Although I was not late, I still dashed into the sacristy (the area where I would vest - don the white alb of a chalice bearer).  I tossed my keys on a counter.  It's what I always do.

The service ended.  I had been asked to toll the bell.  After the 76th dong, I hurried to get my keys and be off to the next project.

No keys.

The sacristy is a small area.  Nothing like a parking lot.  And yet I felt as bereft as I do when I can't find my car. 

The two altar guild ladies, Dandy and Carol,  helped me look.  Where in the world were those keys?

A couple of projects were waiting on me. I really needed to get back to work in my home office.

I knew the keys would show up at some time so I made arrangements for a ride home.  Fortunately I remembered the key pad entry that unlocked my car.  I waited patiently.

Dandy's husband, Ted appeared.

"In Dandy's handbag," he said with a grin.

I canceled the ride home, put the key in the ignition and headed home.

Once more something lost had been found.

And the lady in the parking lot? I told her I would take a ride through the aisles and if I saw it I would come back to tell her. I looked briefly but I did not return and I have felt a bit guilty since that afternoon.

What if my friends hadn't helped me find my keys?