Did I lose my keys?

Did I lose my keys? I really hate keys. I’m always losing them.

The other day, I stopped at the HandiMart to get some gas.
I was kind of in a hurry, as I had to get to work.

After I was finished pumping gas, I went to open my car door and realized I didn’t have my keys.

They were sitting right there on the drivers seat.

Why do I always lock my van?

Anyway, I figured that it was lucky I had left my window open a crack. Almost enough for me to get my arm in my van.

So, I hope that you’re picturing me in the HandiMart parking lot trying to wedge my arm through the window of The Beast.

It becomes obvious that I’m not going to get my arm down there far enough to pick up the keys but, not to worry, the genius in me kicks in and I decided to, instead, use a pen that I found in my pocket to tap the “unlock” button.

As the button is just coming into my reach, I realize something quite curious.

My van was never locked.

I always lock my van (don’t ask me why). I don’t know why I didn’t this time. I guess it’s good that I didn’t. I just wish I would have noticed that before I made an idiot of myself in the HandiMart parking lot.

Anyway, I think there are times in life that the same thing happens.

I make things way more complicated then they need to be. I set up all these nice little hoops to jump through like a poodle at the circus, when really the answer is in front of me the whole time.

Sometimes, it feels like God is my keys behind the unlocked car door. I try to make up all these creative ways to get at Him, when I really just need to open the door.

I’m gonna go do some Bible study now.