THE SIXTH KEY

Such an assortment of keys are on my table. There are keys to old cars, old homes, old places of ministry and work. Keys are repetitious things. We all have a key to a vehicle, a dwelling, and perhaps an office or workspace. These visits to the past are only partial stories ... all true ... but not all there is to tell. The sixth key came to be mine because a minister friend of mine knew a church leader down on the Gulf Coast who was looking for a preacher and he connected the dots. A move to the Gulf Coast was not what I had anticipated, but it seemed like the right time, and the right thing to do. So, on the first day of December, twelve years ago, I kissed my lovely wife goodbye and hugged the kids, and drove myself to the Coast. I had some books, some clothes, and some pretty vivid hopes and dreams for what could happen in our lives. I did not really anticipate the loneliness of that first month. Our church is warm, and full of sweet people ... but it is not characteristic of our congregation to have people in their homes. I'm not complaining, we're kind of like that too. So I spent a lot of time by myself... in this month in which family is emphasized more than any other time of year. When I arrived I slid the key into the door of a small one bedroom furnished apartment. It was just a place to hang out until our apartment was ready. I bought a very poor looking Christmas tree and a strand of lights. I ate at some local places. One of the elders and his wife stopped by to visit. He would become one of my sources of strength and support. The plan was that I would travel up to North Mississippi on Christmas Eve to be with family and bring them back with me on January 1. I just couldn't do that. There was nothing much happening with the holidays in full swing. So, I called one of Maggy's sisters, formulated a plan, and loaded up family Christmas presents in my old Buick. The Buick. Well, it was in bad shape. Something was wrong and I didn't have the money to get it fixed. It would run, IF I pumped the accelerator. If I just held it steady, it would die. So for nearly seven hours I pumped the accelerator and arrived at the restaurant at just the right time. Maggy's sisters had done their job. They were eating in the far room, and her back was to me. She had no idea I had arrived a few days early. When I walked in, John Robert called out "Daddy!" Maggy thought that he saw someone that looked like me...since I couldn't possibly be there! I came up behind her and started rubbing her shoulders. It was a tearful reunion and I was so happy to see my family. The new carpet for our apartment would be arriving late ... leaving us to cope with that small apartment once we all moved down to the Coast. Our stuff stayed in the moving truck for a few days. But it was fun. We had made a move with consequences we could never have guessed. The key to that small apartment was like an entrance into our ministry on the Coast. We couldn't have known that twelve years later we would own a home here and feel so much like family with a church that has loved us and blessed us in so many ways. Now all of my keys were in a pile on one side of the table ... but one remains. It is last in terms of it's chronology ... but perhaps it is last because of deeper reasons.