Divine Timing on Being Lost and Found

Today, I went to the park after a long hiatus from nature. It’s the Friday of a long holiday weekend, and the sun was stunning. It was a crisp Fall day, so I bundled up and drove to the park near my house.

Once there, I donned my headphones and set off with the sun dazzling my eyes. I should have worn a baseball cap instead of a beanie, I thought. The leaves were changing, and the park was blanketed in brown and yellow leaves. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot, and a few people were out. I liked having the place all by myself. I did the courtesy wave and tight-lipped smile to the few passersby on the opposite side of the trail. A man was jogging next to his daughter as she swerved left to right, learning to ride her bicycle. Her small legs extended swiftly from the pedals right before she crashed softly into the fence. Her father ran over to her. 

“Esta bien?” he said, smiling down at her. 

She sat up cross-legged on a pile of leaves and nodded, looking up at him.

I waved and smiled at them as I jogged by.

I completed about 4k jogging and walking. When I made it back to the parking lot, delightfully sweaty and out of breath, I did a series of stretches and checked my pocket for my keys. My hands marveled at the emptiness. I spun around quickly, looking down, kicking up leaves. Where are my keys?

By this time, the father and daughter made it to the parking lot.

“Excuse me, did you see a set of keys along the way here?” I asked, swallowing my franticness.

“Keys? Ah no,” he replied, looking around on the ground.

A woman walked up, and the little girl looked just like her. 

“You were stretching here,” she pointed to the tree, also looking around on the ground.

“Ok, thanks. Let me head back and see.” I stepped back on the trail, eyes glued to the ground as I panned from left to right. The sun was even more blinding now than when I started. 

Along the way, I asked everyone I passed if they had seen a set of keys on the trail.

One by one, they said no with pity in their eyes. One lady said, “If I see it, I’ll yell really loud for you.”

As each person responded negatively, my heart sank deeper, and my mind became more frantic. What was gonna happen to the car if I left it in the park overnight? Why didn’t I think of making a copy of my keys? How will I get into the house now? I started calculating the cost of Ubers to work since I won’t have my car for a while. How much will it cost to tow my car to my house?

By now, I was almost a mile on the trail. I saw a lady jogging with her AirPods firmly placed in her ears. I hesitated because by now, my quest felt futile, and it was almost getting dark.  I waved her down with a weak smile.

“Have you seen a set of keys along the path here?”

“Yes,” she said.”

“Where?!” I asked incredulously.

“It’s this way,” she replied, pointing behind me. “By the hill near the entrance. I saw someone hanging them up on a sign.”

“Thank you!” I said, relieved. I turned around immediately and headed for the entrance.

Now a new set of worries washed over me. Where is this damn hill? What if someone took them? Why would someone take them? Where would they take my keys?

I called the county parks department, but they were closed. Holiday weekend, remember?

My right knee started to cramp, and I began limping, eyes peeled upwards, looking for my keys. The weariness in my body spread from my knees to my back and up my shoulders.

I spotted the lady runner in the distance, headed back my way. It didn’t look like she had my keys. I looked around every sign and pole for my keys hanging. She ran up to me and opened her palm.

“Here are your keys!”

Tears welled in my eyes. It was over. 

“God bless you. What is your name?”

“Symara,” she said, smiling.

“Thank you so very much, Symara,” 

She waved and continued with her run.

As I walked back to my car. My heart burst with gratitude. I thought, what is meant for you will always come to you. I say this as I struggle with how inadequate I feel at times. I measure my age by my presumed lack of accomplishments and status in life. I am a late bloomer. Colleagues and friends my age are editors-in-chief, CEO’s, and successful entrepreneurs, and I am in an entry-level position at my job after living abroad for almost ten years. It is something I struggle with often. Losing and finding my keys was an inevitably revealing ordeal. What is meant for me will always find me, like a homing pigeon. I have been wavering, and I needed this powerful lesson today.

The spiritual side of me also says that every delay has a purpose. My grandmother taught us not to be annoyed if we forget something when we are rushing to get in the car or to get to the airport to catch a flight. Delays serve a purpose and can sometimes save your life. Thankfully, this time my life was not at stake. Delays are God’s timing and the ancestors’ will. What is meant for you is inevitable. Our job is to be patient.