Lost In My Pockets


In the first month of our ‘in-person’ worship with mask wearing, one of my very thoughtful members gave me a gift. It was a “liturgical mask”, which was bright red, and in the center the Chalice logo. I knew I was extra cool when, at a press conference, the Governor of Kentucky was sporting the same mask. Then one day over a year ago, I lost the mask. I kept thinking “It will show up”. Finally I turned it over to St. Jude (the saint of lost causes). Occasionally, I borrow stuff from MK’s Catholic pedigree. I guessed it had gone the way of those dead masks you see soaking up muddy water in the grocery store parking lot.
This past Thursday I looked up to the second level of my closet and thought, “I haven’t worn that vest for a while”. I got it down, put it on, and reached in the side pockets. Hummmmm, I pulled something out of my left pocket and there it was—my special mask. I then began to think of all of the times—months or even years— that had gone by when I would reach in a pocket and find a $20 bill. The reunions are often more fun than the original connection.
When I was in the forth grade, my parents brought me this ‘real turquoise and silver ring’ from Arizona. I wore it proudly. I think now that I probably would make the “nerd” description, as I was most likely the only forth grader with jewelry. It was a very cold morning and I was walking to school not wearing gloves. I was swinging my hands I guess, and as my left arm went up—off the ring shot into the 8” fresh snow. (Yes, I should have been wearing gloves, but one never knows when you might have to load up with a snow ball). I had no idea where it was.
I had to tell my parents my prized ring was lost. I remember my dad saying “You never know—it might show up”. Fast-forward to the fifth grade. I was walking to school again and I happened to notice a glisten of silver under some leaves in a rose bed. Upon a closer look there it was— my very cool ring. I still have it.
To be re-united with that we know was lost or ‘never missed’, is often better than the original possession. This Sunday I will be sporting my ‘new old mask’ and I bet I take a little better care of it.
Onward and Upward,

Mark

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