March 16: Chance and Hope, Lost Keys, the Pilot

"Hear me!" cried the Ghost.  "My time is nearly gone."

"I will," said Scrooge.  "But don't be hard upon me!  Don't be flowery, Jacob!  Pray!"

"How is it that I appear before you in a shape that you can see, I may not tell.  I have sat invisible beside you many and many a day."

It was not an agreeable idea.  Scrooge shivered, and wiped perspiration from his brow.

"That is no light part of my penance," pursued the Ghost.  "I am here to-night to warn you, that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate.  A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer."

Scrooge has been a son of a bitch for quite a while before the Ghost of Jacob Marley pays him a visit.  By Marley's account, Scrooge's chain of sins and crimes even beats Marley's own chain, and Marley's own chain is long enough to keep Houdini busy for quite a few minutes.  So Marley's offer of a "chance and hope" is huge.  Scrooge has a long way to go for redemption.

Even though this little interchange between Jacob and Scrooge appears within the first stave of the novel, it fills me a sense of human possibility.  If Scrooge has a chance, then anybody has a chance.  Just because I've made mistakes in the past, or just because I'm making mistakes in the present, doesn't mean I'm completely lost.  Jacob Marley's appearance seems to indicate that there's always hope, for Scrooge, for anybody.

Last night, I lost my keys.  I hate losing my keys.  I couldn't find them anywhere.  They weren't in my car.  They weren't in my coat pockets.  They weren't in my book bag.  They simply weren't there.  In the past, when I've lost my keys, I've gone a little crazy.  For me, having my keys is having control.  When I can't find my keys, I feel as though things are slipping through my fingers.  Last night, however, I didn't panic.  I didn't tear my house or car apart.  I just obtained a spare set of keys and gave the rest up to God.

This morning, I found my keys at my place of work.  By placing my faith in God, I avoided a whole lot of drama last night.  In the past, I would have got in my car, driven back to my office, and ransacked the place until I found my keys.  Instead, I waited and searched calmly this morning.  It took me exactly three minutes to locate them.  And I did it without losing my mind.

This says it all...

I think that's the nature of hope and faith.  I had complete faith that my keys would show up this morning.  I never feared.  I never lost hope.  I'll admit that, when I got to work and my keys weren't immediately visible on my desk, the alarms started going off in my head.  I started to panic.  For just a minute or so.  Then I talked myself down off the ledge and began a methodical search.  Two minutes later, I had my keys in hand.

I think God does that to me on purpose every once in a while, just to remind me who's actually in charge.  It ain't me, that's for sure.  And then, when I start to embrace my limitations again, God gives me back the keys to the kingdom (or at least my office).  It's sort of like the story of God telling Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac.  It's a test of faith.  Abraham never lost faith or hope.  I didn't either.

Yes, I'm comparing losing my keys to Abraham sacrificing his only child.  Seems ridiculous, I know, but that's how my mind works.  Sometimes holding on to faith is easy, and sometimes it's really difficult.  Jacob Marley has to drag Scrooge, kicking and screaming, back to faith and hope.  Of course, it takes three additional ghosts to assist Marley in helping the old bastard, but eventually the old bastard gets it and is saved.  Scrooge is given his keys back.

So if you lose your keys today, have a little faith and hope.  It works.  Believe me.

In the mean time, do what Saint Marty did when his keys were lost last night:  find a spare set and relax.  God's not the copilot.  He's the pilot.