Losing Keys

Well the other day I mentioned on Facebook about how it has become tradition for people to write sappy reflections on leaving things in life, and I said that while my life had been busy that my sappy post was coming...it's coming no more, it's here.

One of the ways that I always consider the change that is coming in my life, or the change that has already happened, is to reflect on the amount of keys I am about to remove [or have removed] from my keychain. On my keys currently there is one of those newfangled switchblade keys for our car, there is a tiny BB-8 that has mainly faded over the course of the past year or so, there is a circular piece of metal that reads New England Patriots and has the teams logo on it, there are 5 little keychain size plastic thingys from stores [Payless Grocery, CVS, Toys 'r' Us, Ollie's, and Wendy's] and there are two new apartment keys. Those are the things attached to my keychain, but the point of this story is not what is attached, rather it is about what is no longer attached.

THE FIRST LOST KEY

I suppose that I shouldn't label these as lost keys, but in truth every change contains at least a little bit of loss, and these keys more than most.

My first lost key wasn't a key so much as it was a keycard. It was a credit card sized piece of plastic with technology inside that allowed access to a door. Inside this door were a group of people that I trusted to watch my child while Mary and and I were at work. On most days I would drop Henry off at Southview Preschool Center and he would spend a few hours there, then he would board a school bus and be dropped off at Learning Tree Childcare located at New Horizons United Methodist Church.

Once at Learning Tree he would be fed his second lunch, take a nap, play, learn, and interact. He was surrounded by love, from his teachers, the director and the support staff. Women with names like Amanda, Jessica, Abbie, Renee, Sara, Rachel, Keila, and others took care of and loved on my son.

While I didn't have a key that gave me access to Southview there were also women who cared for and loved on my son with names like Shelley, Sally, Mrs. Wirsch, Mrs. Dailey, Mrs. Gardner, Miss Sanchez.

THE SECOND LOST KEY

This one was silver, and when you used it to lock or unlock the door you had to push on the door. The first time I saw this door I drove past it, realizing too late that it was where I was supposed to be. I found the door through a friend, because of another friend, I leave it only because the weekly commute would be too much. This silver key unlocked the door to the First Church of God in Elwood Indiana.

Before I arrived that first Sunday morning I had only been to Elwood once, accompanying my girlfriend at the time to a birthday party at a park, and that party played a part in our relationship ending, once she saw that I was not an outgoing individual when surrounded by strangers...which she could have learned if she had just asked me or read my Myers Briggs test results.

When I arrived that Sunday I though it would be my second and final time going to Elwood. Little did I know that small town church would change my life. My previous pastoral experience did not end well and I was in no way looking to jump right in again, or perhaps even ever again. But I finished that sermon and was asked to come back, then a few weeks later I was asked to take on the church, then a few months later I actually did.

I once preached a sermon saying that I would no longer use the term "small church" but it was a small church, but it was a real church. Here was a group of people who followed Jesus instead of just believing in him [and friends there is a huge difference]. They came to church with smiles, and sometimes frowns, and sometimes tears. They didn't feel the need to pretend that they had it all together or pretend that following Jesus was simple and easy.

People with names like Jim, Lisa, Tim, Laura, Lisa, Ryne, Patty, Ruth, Marvin, Ashley, Dustin, Emma, Max, Roxie, Timmy, Nora, and others who entered into my and my family's life for a season. Who accepted the 2 year old who hardly communicated and the 37 year old who communicated much more from the lectern, or head of the table, than he did away from it, and Mary also. A group of people that it broke my heart to walk away from, that building and the people within it changed my outlook, changed my faith, changed my life and I only walk away because I have to.

THE THIRD LOST KEY

First a keycard, then a single key, this time it was a whole key ring of keys, small ones that unlocked padlocks, big ones that unlocked front and back doors, others that unlocked office doors and kitchen doors and a weird shaped one that opened and closed refrigerators and freezers. This set of keys I acquired January 4th, 2016 when I was hired on as Food Pantry Coordinator at Operation Love Ministries.

As with all things in my life my entrance into OLM has an interesting story. I applied for a different job about 6 months earlier and, obviously, didn't get it. Then when there Food Pantry Coordinator put in his notice the executive director thought of the Pastor that she turned down during the summer, thinking that maybe he would be perfect for the job. Not to toot my horn too highly, but I was close to perfect for the job. It was part logistics, part organization, part observance, part pastoral care, all aspects within my wheelhouse.

For almost two years I thrived at OLM. I thrived in no small part because of the people around me, actual employees like Andrea, Ashley, Yolanda, Chris, Sherise, Manny helped me to survive day to day and volunteers like Janet, Delores, Bev, Carolyn, Mike, Vickie, Becki, Pat, Joanne, Judy, Dawn, Ray, Richard, Gary, Darlene, Liz, Darlene, Missy, Janet, Princess, Iris, Jamie, Leith, Tony, Janet, Helen, and others who came and went and and were there before me and will be there after me. Each one of these people I carry in my heart and in my memories. Much like the people I at church I leave them because I have to.

The countless amount of families that I was able to participate in helping made each difficult Wednesday and truck delivery worth it, every ache and pain worth it. People often question the purpose of food panties and other helping ministries, they talk about people using the system, and there will always be people who use the system, whatever system we are talking about. But the question I pose to myself and to others is this: do you not help anyone because of the 5%, or whatever the number really is, of people who use the system or do you help the 95% or so that really need the help and occasionally help someone who just uses the system? When I think of Jesus I don't see him asking if all the 5000+ really NEEDED the food, I do see him telling his disciples to feed them. The people at OLM and other food pantries feed the people, just like Jesus told us to do.

THE FOURTH [and final] LOST KEY

The last keys lost were two gold keys and one plastic keycard. The keycard opened a gate, the one key opened a mailbox, the final key opened a townhouse door. We lived at Four Winds on Raible for almost 8 years. We had one room that went from storage, to a gigantic walk in closet, to a nursery, to a toddlers room, to a child's bedroom...not that he slept in it often. We went from a couple to a family. We went from having lighter and darker brown hair to having lighter and darker brown hair speckled with white and grays. I went from 225 to 255, somewhat due to muscle mass but largely due to fat mass. I went from working at a video rental store to being a pastor to being a janitor to being a pastor to also being a food pantry coordinator. In other words there was a whole lot of change.

Through it all people like Fred and Nancy and Dave and Kayla kept our townhouse a home. There was a mouse at one point when the corn fields behind the complex got harvested, but the hole was found and filled and the mouse was caught and disposed of. The kitchen and bathrooms were updated, a gate was put into our patio, and our lights went more eco-friendly. It wasn't perfect, as no place really is, but it was home for 8 years. We swam in the pool, played on the playground, walked laps on the sidewalks, and generally had a very good life.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Long enough for you? Sappy enough for you? Hopefully, because its all I got. I love all those who touched our lives in the past 5 years of being a family, 11 years of being a couple, and 21 years of me living in Anderson. Catch ya'll on the flipside.

Kenny