Quiet Time

I was locked out of my house Tuesday morning. I left on a run and as I closed the door, turning back towards my son John, I said, "Don't lock me out." Should have kept my mouth shut... too true, too often. John takes off for class and out of habit, turns and locks the door. Trouble was brewing.

Ignorant to situation, I ran, one mile at a time, (no need to run 5 miles when one only needs to run 1 mile 5 times) in the gorgeous warmth of a February heat wave as only Southern California can put out. Run completed, I came up the walk with my day mapped out in my mind, it was a busy one and there was no margin for error... I thought. Holding the door handle- I tried it several times in stunned disbelief -I saw my day beggining to slip away. You know that feeling of being locked out. Try it sometime in just running shoes, shorts and shirt, it's a pretty vulnerable feeling.

Thinking maybe John was pulling a prank, we'd just talked about this moments earlier, I went to the back door. Locked. Blood pressure climbing... panic starting to set in, I went around the entire house checking every window- no luck. I even looked under the door mat and planters, we've never hid a key, but I wasn't going to leave one stone unturned. Reality setting in, I started knocking on neigbors doors, hoping to use a phone. John was in class. Debi flying home from a week in Ohio. Julia was my only hope, calling the office, they said they'd find her and send her my way with a key to get me in.

Time to kill. I had a high school teacher who hated that expression. She was always lecturing me that I needed to be "filling my time! Not killing it!" No patio furniture out. The front of the house was in shade and cold. The back patio was in direct sunlight. I sat on the ground and began to soak it all in. I wanted to have a great attitude. I tried my friend's mantra: "Nothing bugs me. Nothing bugs me." Didn't help. Thought I heard a car, went to walk to the front of the house and the guy who reads the meter came out from behind a bush, stepped into our yard and we scared each other to death. No car.

I resigned myself to waiting. Rehearsed my day to come in my head. The sun felt great but any joy in this forced "quiet time" was still out of reach. I couldn't find the key. Sooner, rather than much later, our daugther Julia showed up and after a brief search, found me sitting peacefully on the back patio. She said, "Hi Dad" I said, well there's no real point in going into what I said. Needless to say, the "Peace that passes understanding" had silpped right by me.

If you read over this blog you'll discover it's all about me: my frustration, my getting locked out, my getting scared. In the midst of it all I learned that: I can count on my staff and family to help me, I can count on my neighbors to be there when I knock, I can depend on God to give me just the right situation for the lesson I need in trust. And maybe most importantly, I learned, that if I want to get back into the house after a run, I'd better bring a key!

What lessons are you learning today?