Why I’ll Always Use the Deadbolt

Last week I was on my way out the door to watch Story while Sharon went to her moms’ group (Bible study), and as I locked the door behind me, I felt like I was forgetting something. I shut the door and instantly realized what I was forgetting. My keys. I was standing in the garage, purse in hand, and keys locked in the house, and I had fifteen minutes to get to Sharon’s place. (Add to this the fact that the previous week I’d also been late when a large moving truck was blocking several parking places where I’d normally park and I drove around for a solid ten minutes trying to find another spot.) I called Jesse, hoping against hope that we had hidden a key in our garage somewhere. Wouldn’t that be smart? We are not smart. No key. He’d just have to come home and unlock the door for me. But he works a good twenty minutes away, and by the time I’d get to Sharon’s she’d be too late to leave for her group. Ack!

Then I remembered I had my wallet. I told Jesse not to leave yet and that I’d call him right back. Then I whipped out a debit card I never use and in about five seconds flat the door was open. I felt very clever, very Nancy Drew, until I realized how easy it had been, how easy it would be for someone else to slip a debit card into our door and pop it right open. Unsettling…