Keys

Well, I should have spent yesterday rejoicing in the success of our Sunday with guests from the Temple. The combined choirs sang gloriously, the rabbi gave a good sermon, the kids were enthralled by the Torah scroll he brought to show them during the Time with Children. Also WE WON the canned goods competition! Really a lovely morning.

However. Though we had spent lots of time working on just how the service would go, there still ended up being last minute details that had me racing around moments before worship began getting stuff out of various closets and classrooms. Just as church was starting, I realized that I still had my keys clutched in my hand. I don't like to have keys in my pocket when leading worship because I jingle and jangle everytime I move. So I quickly stashed the keys on the little shelf just below the lectern. Problem solved.

Except that when the service was over, I completely forgot that I had done this. I mingled through our expanded coffee hour, visiting with our guests. I introduced people to my parents who are visiting for the week. I closed a few minor church business deals in side conversations with a few key members. After 45 minutes or so, we were finally ready to think about heading home.

It was at this moment that I remembered that my keys, including house and car keys, were on the shelf in the lectern. Did I mention that my husband is away at a trade show in Texas? And since it had taken me so long to recall this little detail, the Spanish speaking congregation with whom we share our building had already begun their service. To retrieve my keys I would either have to barge into the middle of their worship, or wait till they were done.

You also need to know that yesterday was the day our Hispanic brothers and sisters were bidding farewell to the interim pastor who has been with them for three years. They have called a permanent pastor so their interim can finally retire. Given that it was a special day for them, I decided not to interupt their worship to get my keys. I figured, hey it's already 11:45--their church gets out at 12:30. It's not that long a wait. My kids and my parents weren't thrilled with this development, but they accepted my decision.

I decided that, since I was there, I would slip into the back pew and be a quiet part of the service. I got there just as our Executive Presbyter was getting up to preach. I was so impressed that she can preach in fluent Spanish, since I have known some EPs who were hard pressed to preach fluently in one language let alone two. I don't speak Spanish much, so I was mentally patting myself on the back for having figured out what text she was preaching on and the (very) basic gist of her first point when our Associate Pastor appeared at my side and said, "You may want to check on your family."

My parents had decided to go sit in the car and listen to the radio. My kids had hooked up with the son of our Christian Ed coordinator. Her son and my son had stolen my daughter's stuffed animal and were making preparations to string it up on a tree. She was screeching at them in anger and frustration while they tossed Seal back and forth like a football.

Meanwhile, the service was not drawing to a close at it normally would have at that hour. Saying good-bye to the pastor strechted longer and longer and longer. Then when they finished up with that, the women's association had to say good-bye to the pastor's wife. All told, we were stuck for much closer to two hours before I was finally able to rescue my keys from the lectern. My kids were fit to be tied by that time. (Really, I was going for the rope to tie them up.) My parents would have been furious too, except that they know very well where my key-losing genes come from as we locked ourselves out of the house regularly when I was growing up. In fact, I reminded them of the time my Dad went to an academic conference in another state and accidentally took both sets of house/car keys with him. That was especially festive in those days before Fed Ex next day air.

And how was your Sunday?