Locked Cars, Socks and Faith

As I wash my clothes, I come to the realization that "Whoosh, where are my socks?" is just a manifestation of not having faith that my socks are where I put them. After all, the last time I saw my socks was when I put them into the drier. At no point did anyone else take them out of the drier and keep them from me. You have no idea how many times I have found socks in unexpected places -- folded in sets of bed sheets, jumbled in with shirts, thrown into closets on top shelves. Faith is just as elusive as socks some days. Tonight, I locked myself out of my car. I was in a huge hurry when I went to get gas. Instead of clutching my keys close or clipping them to my belt or even leaving the car door unlocked, I threw the keys on the seat next to me, grabbed my money and closed the car. I only realized what I'd done after a few gallons of gas glugged into the tank. You know the feeling. That sinking pit of the stomach feeling when something is totally not right. Taking time to do things right has always been a challenge in my life. Taking time to find faith is equally not easy some days. It is that spin dry cycle of life that messes my faith up the same way it messes with my socks. Frankly I had no faith that the locksmith would get to my car when the insurance company told me. No faith whatsoever. But, in fact, he showed up early. Go figure....So thank goodness for the locksmiths who not only know how to unlock my car but how to restore my faith in timely execution of requests to an car insurance company whose trouble operator was located in Atlanta, Georgia. Now all I need to find is a locksmith to unlock my heart. I suspect that will be an inside job and may take whatever time it takes. But until nonsense like life makes sense...peace.