Archive for the 'Lockout' Category

LOCKOUT! (Flood Journal 4)

Last Saturday we met our contractor at the Jobsite (known as our home prior to The Flood). We reviewed the week’s progress, paid the bill, and discussed next steps. Next steps led Dianna and me to the Home Improvement Palaces to find tile and paint. At HIP 1 we found clearance-priced tile for the basement kitchen backsplash. The color led us to consider painting that area a different color. Pursuing this possibility added new color chips to my wife’s growing collection.

Then we left the store—and returned to our still-locked, still-unlockable car! Too much was happening at once when we’d climbed out of the car. In the confusion the only set of keys stayed behind. (Don’t ask. We momentarily blamed each other until I decided it was the dog’s fault.  He loves to visit Home Improvement Palaces. I’d set the keys down beside him when I got him out of the car and he didn’t remind me to pick them back up.) Dianna and I had agreed we should call AAA before we went into the store. But we didn’t stop and do it, and then we were caught up in our mission. What were we thinking? That the car might forgive our haste-inspired stupidity and magically unlock itself?

It didn’t. So we called AAA when we emerged from the store. “Within an hour”, we were told, our Liberator would arrive to end our self-imposed Lockout. We could get some lunch in the meantime. Last time we’d visited this store, the hot-dog vendor just outside the exit had served up the best Chicago Dog I’ve had this far from Chi-Town. He enjoyed his work, he’d told us that day, but he was losing money, and a man can’t afford to do that forever. Forever must have come, because the vendor, his stand, and the table where we’d eaten were all gone.

So we stood around next to our car, waiting…waiting…waiting. Carson, our dog, found some shade near the edge of the car. It was still lunchtime. But the hotdog stand had been the only source of food within walking distance. Undaunted, I delved into my survival training (a very shallow delve), took my trusty key-hiding dog Carson, and foraged up a candy bar and some water inside the store. We ate and drank and stood around in the warm sunny parking lot some more. Winter seemed to have followed the school schedule and taken its own Spring Break. It was getting uncomfortably warm.

The Lockout bumped me just far enough outside my comfort zone that I found myself praying, “Lord, I thank you that this condition is temporary and I don’t live in those tight spots where people get trapped, too often for good.”

  • We’re locked out of the car and can’t go anywhere. Not to worry. I’ve paid my AAA membership, the repair truck will arrive soon, and within minutes we’ll be free. Thank God for our comfortable, air-conditioned, well-running eight-year-old car and the lifestyle that makes it possible. Thank God that this Lockout is temporary and not like the desperate, “no-way-out” lives folks live due to their own unfortunate choices, circumstances beyond their control, or a paralyzing mix of choice and circumstance. (Most of us have been there at some point in our lives.)
  • It’s getting hot out here in the sun. But I can get out of the weather. I can walk inside the store. I know I’ll have a warm, dry place to sleep tonight and a cool, shady place out of the sun and wind every day.
  • It’s way past lunch-time and I’m hungry. Thank God for financial resources and physical strength to walk into the store and get a little something. Thank God for strength and ability to feed and care for myself and my family (including our trusty key-hiding dog Carson).
  • I wish that locksmith would hurry up and get here. Once again, thank God for the resources to have a car, to call a locksmith when we need one, and to have a cellphone which can receive text-message updates on our Liberator’s estimated arrival time.

Lots of people walked or drove past during our hour-plus wait. Some stared at us. What did they think? Were we homeless and living in that car? Had we had had a breakdown? Could we really be dumb enough to lock keys in the car? (Yes.) My wife made eye-contact with two or three and volunteered an explanation. They’d listen, then walk off, mumbling and smirking their way into the store. She soon quit explaining. Let them mumble and smirk without our assistance!

About two-thirds of the way through The Lockout a woman pulled into the parking space next to us. Everyone else had carefully avoided it. She asked about our situation with genuine concern. ”Called anybody?” Yes, we had, and they were coming. “Got some water?” Yes, and you’re the first one to ask. Bless you. Thanks for asking. She went into the store, did her shopping, and returned to find us still waiting. She inquired again about our situation. We said that we’d just learned our Liberator was about two minutes away. We thanked her again and she went on her way. The Liberator arrived and quickly unlocked the car. (I miss the time when a carefully-sculpted wire clothes hanger and a steady hand could unlock almost any car.) We thanked our Liberator, drove to have lunch, and found the rest of what we needed at Home Improvement Palace 2.

If we were exploring this story the way we often study Jesus’ parables, I’d ask, “Which of these characters do you identify with? The locked-out folks? The Liberator who’s coming as fast as he can but not fast enough? The passers-by in the parking lot? The helpful woman who expressed genuine concern? The trusty, key-hiding dog who was a convenient scapegoat?” (Please forgive me, Carson. It won’t happen again.)

Jesus might ask, “Which of these passers-by was truly a neighbor to the locked-out folks?” (Luke 10:36) The question that matters most is not where we see ourselves in the story right now. It’s who we will seek to be next time we come upon some locked-out folks that our eyes of faith recognize as neighbors. That moment is very near. After all, Jesus teaches us through stories like the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) that our neighbor is in fact any person within our reach at a given moment.


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