Faith and Losing my Keys

         Keys are easy to lose. They never used to be, back when the only thing I had to do after a busy day of working or going to school was feed myself, fill Buddy's food dish and do whatever I wanted. Then I had children and those children grew older and decided to have a busier social life than I do. So after a busy day we have an even busier evening of running around to dance lessons, PTA meetings, and trying to have dinner together at that table. 

       Now, it's easy to lose my keys. I leave them on the piano, on the table, in my coat pocket, on the counter and hero hottie's favorite (this is sarcasm) in the front door. Yes, they're easy to find in the front door on the way out to the car, just not the safest location for obvious reasons. 

       I should have a key hook to hang them on but all my key hooks are full of a variety of keys I either need, I might need, or I'm not sure if I should throw them out because what if I do need them? Is that clutter or just fear? I have a padlock on one of my kitchen cabinets that has been there for a few years because I lost the key and my oldest child when she was young thought she could lock me out of the drawer by attaching it to the handle. Much to her surprise it didn't function the way she thought and I haven't removed it since the cabinet is so old and I'm afraid the drawer handle won't go back on.

       The only other thing I lose with any sort of regularity is my faith. And I suppose misplacing keys and losing faith are very similar. I don't lose them all the time and I find them in odd places when I do. 

       When I was younger and the world was about me, (I'm not being arrogant but how many teenagers think beyond just their dreams and goals) then faith was easy to find. Yes, bad things happened, especially long ago in that thing called history but that was so yesterday. When you're busying picking colleges, and driving around with friends, and having fun, faith is easy. 

      And I suppose that's a very common theme with people in religion circles, faith is easy when every thing is all right with the world, it's a challenge to find when you really need it. I don't subscribe to any particular denomination, so don't worry, this blog entry isn't about buying the correct ticket to get to heaven. (I think every religion has their own ticket booth) This blog is simply about having faith, losing faith, struggling with it and finding it. 

      I think most people wrestle with this one, even if they never lose or misplace anything else in their lives. Even if they insist that we simply vanish into nothingness when we die, they still had faith, they just lost it and they're ignoring that one missing thing from their life. I know many people that struggle to find it, they sit in church pews every Sunday and try to find it in the words of the man preaching up front. But faith isn't something that can just be passed around. 

     I have friends that try new churches every few weeks because they haven't found it yet. But faith isn't something that can be found in a building. You may find it while in a building, but just being in a building, no matter how holy, is not going to give it to you. 

      I have relatives that base their faith on allowing one head religious guy be their guide and when they find out the horrors that have occurred in that religion they rather ignore it than have to find their own source of faith. 

     Sometimes I find faith, usually right in front of my face when I witness a miracle. Which I believe is most of life, even if I don't understand it. But when horrible things happen, when evil is allowed to win the battle, I lose it, just as easy as I misplace my keys. So very close but I can't find them because I can't see where I left them. 

     I won't be able to end this piece by saying I finally found my faith hiding underneath some fake Easter grass and I never lost it again. That would be a lie. Last Sunday I had it, briefly, just because I realized other people struggle with the same issues as I do and then the next day I was once again filled with fear for the world and my children's future and I lost it again. 

    I read Guidepost magazine and Chicken Soup for the Soul books because they feature people who found their faith and their stories end well. I have to admire people that find something I'm constantly seeking. Even though I have a sneaking suspicion that after 'the end' they might lose their faith again and have to send out a search and rescue crew to find it.

    I know some religion figures would chastise me for being weak of faith and trust. Perhaps I am. I have high ideals for the way I feel people should act and treat each other and it's a real disappointment that it's not a better world for my children to become adults in. I get frustrated with the mean and boorish attitudes of other people. I know I'm not perfect and I make mistakes like crazy. It is one thing I'm good at. :) 

     But I try.  

     I have to say that if we've all lost the same thing, you think by now we would have found all its hiding places. But like my keys I'm continually surprised by how often I can lose it and what weird places I will find it again. Sigh. I need something to store my faith in, and I probably do, it's just cluttered with all my fears. Just like key hooks that are too full for the important set of keys. 

    

     I hope everyone has a safe and happy Easter.
    

Just a Musing...

Miracles.

Since it's the Christmas season I thought a musing on miracles would be fitting and easy. Whew, was I wrong. Once I started thinking about miracles and the meanings and reasons and origins of such things I was struck by how much punch this one little word can pack. 

First of all...I love the word 'miracle.' It's a strong sounding word. Powerful. Elegant looking. 

And then there's the meaning. From Wikipedia, "A miracle is an unexpected event attributed to divine intervention." Wow, not a shallow definition by any means. It's also one that could be debated, picked apart and used universally in most if not all cultures and religions. 

So using the word to say, 'darn, it will be a miracle if I get these dishes done' is perhaps a misuse of such a powerful and meaningful word, unless of course I have divine help in accomplishing such a mundane task. Which you never know... :) 

I read Guideposts magazine every month and there's always stories on miracles. Perhaps one has to have faith to believe in miracles, otherwise it would be easy to dismiss the event as either a coincidence or good luck. Or maybe the cynics would say we only have miracles because we think there is more than what one can feel and touch and see. The hateful would say miracles can't happen because why wouldn't they happen for everything. Protect us from anything. 

     I say I don't have all the answers. It does seem like the more answers I find, I find ten times as many questions to go with them. But I believe in miracles. Not lightly because I don't have answers but because it simply makes sense to me. 

     Once when my children were little, I inadvertently left the tub full while I dried them off and then forgot about it. Well, my toddler, who couldn't climb out of the tub without assistance fell in but I didn't hear it. Suddenly, this wet and soggy toddler appears, unfazed in the hallway needing a new set of clothing and I realized with only the horror a parent can experience in the deepest halls of their hearts, that something horrible had almost happened. But it didn't. Is there an explanation? Possibly. Perhaps, just once my toddler managed to climb out of a tub, even though everything was wet and slippery.    

      Unlikely. 

      Perhaps, they didn't fall all the way in even though they were totally wet.    

      Grimace. 

      Perhaps, it's a miracle and one I never take for granted. 

      A search on miracle and books will provide quite a list of books about miracles of all sorts. I haven't read many of them. I think the most wonderful fictional book I ever read about miracles was a children's book, 'The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey.' By Susan Wojciechowski. The story is bittersweet but more sweet at the end than bitter and the illustrations by PJ Lynch are a pleasure to look at. This book gets read more than once during the month of December. 

       Miracles. A topic that deserves more than just a blog entry.