We went in search of a little inspired teamwork, my best Billiken Buddy and I. We found a long-lost hearing aid instead.
The game – in theory, a spirited contest to claim the top spot in the conference – turned into dud instead (at least for us long-suffering SLU fans).
While I’m inclined to spew a bit more about the bitter taste this match-up left in my mouth, it’s probably best if I follow my dear mother’s advice: “If you can’t say something nice about certain college basketball players, then don’t say anything at all.”
Well, maybe my Mom isn’t quite that obsessed about someone’s disappointing performance on the hardcourt…but you get the idea.
And I suppose Mom has been on my heart in recent days because it’s her hearing aid we found. Her confounded, annoying, irritating, pesky, wretched hearing aid.
It went missing many months ago, as Mom and I were traveling back to her apartment from a doctor’s visit. Frustrated in the moment by feedback, she started fiddling with it…and fumbled it into her lap (unbeknownst to her driver). Then when she got out of the car, the hearing aid flipped into who-knows-where: the curb, the grass, the car-seat cushion, the dark recesses of her purse. We searched them all, unsuccessfully – while noting ruefully that it’s not necessarily a “feature” if an expensive electronic device is designed to be “nearly invisible.”
Eventually, we concluded that the hearing aid was gone for good – an outcome that didn’t displease Mom all that much, because she’s never liked using hearing aids to begin with. Since she still had ONE to fuss with, she figured that was plenty.
Sorry to trouble you, Mom…but your “lost” hearing aid is now found.
But what is it about my car, I wonder, that makes it a magnet for misplaced objects? My Billiken Buddy and I both heard the sound when something fell out of his pocket the other night – at first, we thought it might be his cell phone, but it turned out to be his car key instead. In either case, a thorough search was warranted – and David, it seems, tends to be a more thorough searcher than Yours Truly…because he found half-a-dozen things I didn’t know were “down there” under the seat.
Including his car key, and Mom’s vexatious hearing aid.
Which got me thinking, “this will be a great story to tell in connection with Jesus’ parable about the widow and the lost coin.” Just one small problem with my plan: there’s a different teaching on Jesus’ lips in the gospel we hear this week.
“You are the salt of the earth…You are the light of the world…Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.”
Imagine that: Salt, not bitterness, is the seasoning the Holy One asks me to sprinkle over my little corner of the world. Light, not darkness, is the gift I’m being asked to share – even on those dreadful days when the home team doesn’t perform up to my expectations.
And now, quite unexpectedly, I’ve got this “extra” little device on hand…perhaps encouraging me to open my ears and hear.
Even with only one good ear, Mom always manages to bring light and joy to this pair of great-grandsons.
Let us pause now…to recall that we are in the presence of the Holy & Merciful One.
IHS
With Us Still 
So I had to laugh at this. I need your friend to check out my car for a couple lost earrings and other things I can’t remember. This salt and light Gospel is one of my favorites. I feel like I loose a little more flavor (spark, energy) each year. I read recently where God’s light shines through our cracks. I can only hope this is true.