Keys

Keys- something I have a lot of. In fact, I've on more than one occasion been questioned about perspective janitorial service. Despite my array of keys, I am NOT a janitor. But if I were, I'm almost positive I'd be one of those really good looking, MIT math genius janitors.

I can totally connect the dots!

A day ago it occurred to me that very soon and for a brief period of time I, for the first time that I can ever remember, won't have a single key to own. Notta one.

For as long as I can remember I've always had keys. And I'm not just talking about the occasional collection of unnecessary keys that have built up over time. No, for the last year I've claimed as many as 11 keys, all of which were necessary to have on my person.
Car, wife's car, apartment, Tulsa home, trailer hitch, church, work, mailbox, drum key (for tuning), band room and one top secret one I can't tell you about.

mmmhmm

So, there I was, sitting in my car staring at ALL of those keys and realizing that in a few weeks I won't need one of them. Actually, for a brief time on the flight to Tokyo, I'll be in key limbo till I receive the keys to our new mansion.
Keyless! I never new there'd be such a place -even in heaven there's gates.

(Presumably locked) 

All joking aside, the more I thought about it the more sobering it turned out to be.

Those keys aren't just keys... They're symbols or representations of past commitments, relationships, memories, people, places and things. Having a key to something is having the privilege to be opened up to something, whether it be employment, a ride, a safe or home. Keys can be comforting too, in that they affirm our ownership of our possessions. Look, this is my key and that is my car, see? It's proof it belongs to me. Keys, in one sense, give you the right to be there.
Sadly, what I've come to realize is that in deciding to move to Japan, Carmon and I are (in a way) giving up those rights.
When we move, we don't have that option of taking a weekend trip up to Tulsa to visit my parents. Nor can we jump in our car to take a random road trip with my brother in law. The band room will no be expecting my late night wood sheds, and my church will have new interns to lock up the place.

Of course there's an optimistic way of seeing things, too. We aren't just throwing away our lives or anything. We're just...exchanging keys. Trading in for a smaller, more simpler set.

"Noooooo!"