Keys in the Car
(Author Unknown)
I don’t believe forgetting things should be synonymous with aging. Forgetfulness happens at any age—though I’ll concede it may show up a bit more often in the golden years.
Several days ago, after leaving a meeting at a hotel, I gave myself a full TSA-style pat-down. I was looking for my car keys. They weren’t in my pockets. A quick search of the meeting room turned up nothing. Suddenly, it hit me—I must have left them in the car.
Panic set in as I hurried to the parking lot.
My husband has scolded me many times for leaving my keys in the ignition. My logic is simple: the ignition is the one place you’re least likely to lose them. His logic is also simple: the car will get stolen.
As I burst through the door and scanned the parking lot, I came to a terrifying conclusion.
His logic was right.
The parking lot was empty.
I immediately called the police, gave them my location, and confessed that I had left my keys in the car—and that the car had been stolen. Then came the hardest call of all.
“Honey,” I stammered—he’s always “honey” in moments like this. “I left my keys in the car… and it’s been stolen.”
There was a long pause. I thought the call had dropped. Then I heard his voice, sharp and unmistakable.
“I dropped you off.”
Now it was my turn to be silent.
Embarrassed, I finally said, “Well… come and get me.”
He replied, “I will—as soon as I convince this policeman that I did not steal your car.”
Yep.
The golden years.
Proverbs 17:22 (NKJV): “A merry heart does good, like medicine…”
Moments like this remind us not to take ourselves—or life—too seriously. Laughter has a way of humbling us, softening our hearts, and restoring perspective when pride, stress, or frustration try to take over. God knows our frames, our weaknesses, and yes—even our forgetfulness. A joyful spirit doesn’t deny reality; it redeems it. When we learn to laugh at ourselves, extend grace to one another, and embrace life’s imperfections, we reflect the kindness and patience of God. Sometimes the most spiritual thing we can do is smile, give thanks, and let a merry heart do its healing work—just like good medicine.
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