Keys

When I was a kid, I read the novelization of Steven Spielberg's "E.T." before I saw the movie.  For some reason, one part of the book really stuck out in my head and I still remember it frequently.  There was an agent in the book (and in the movie, though his role was diminished) called "Keys".  People called him Keys because he had so many.  The book detailed how this guy got a sense of importance by how many keys he had... the more keys he had the more important he was.  

I remember identifying with that as a kid.  When I was old enough to need to carry keys, I collected them.  And each that I received came with a sense of pride.  My first truck key, car key, the receiving department keys, Subway keys, church keys.  Getting a key from a place I worked was a sign of trust and accomplishment. The older I get, though, the more I appreciate less keys on my key ring.  Last year, when I worked at Walmart, I had two keys... my car key and my house key.  What a relief that was!  Then, when I got back into youth ministry at St. John's, I received 5 more keys - some of them, I didn't even know what they were for.  Then when I started at Christ Church, another key.  Then the theater key...  

Today, I turned in my keys to St John's.  My key ring has diminished.  While I don't get a sense of worth anymore about the number of keys on my ring, there is a little sadness that comes with turning in keys.

I don't really know where I'm going with this.  It was too long for a FaceBook post and not coherent enough for a good blog post.  Just something that was on my mind this morning as I should have been getting ready for church.