Reflections: The Parable of the HubCap

Picture found here 

“The whole point of being alive is to evolve into

 the complete person you were intended to be.”

~ Oprah Winfrey

In 2005, I bought my first car, a little knock about that I could learn on.  My 1997 Toyota Corolla is definitely a jewel – at over 200,000+ miles, it has done me well. While I dream of newer cars, until that time, my baby, nicknamed “The Colby” and “The Brown Blur”, has gotten me far more places than I ever could imagine. I try to take such care of the car that I am aware of any changes.  I almost never have hubcaps - not for lack of wanting them, but by the time my major bills are covered, something that small often gets overlooked.  About a month and a half ago, I suddenly noticed a new set of matching, charcoal gray hubcaps on my car. I had no idea where they came from, which was a small source of concern that was quickly replaced by elation. It was new, it was fun - they were matching hubcaps!  Of course, I just went on about my business; I had, after all, recently gotten an oil change with my favorite mechanic – maybe he had done the work?

This past month, I hit, rather hard, a bump while turning up the ramp to access the expressway. I went to the next exit, took a look at the wheels and exterior, saw that the pothole did not ruin my car (as Atlanta potholes have been know to do), but I noticed something was missing.  I lost one of the hubcaps. I thought, should I go back and get it?  Should I – could I – leave it there?  In my heart it had become something so precious.  I did not even purchase it myself, but for some reason the thought of being callus and uncaring about a gift was not acceptable.  After all, it was not the hubcaps themselves that were important to me, but that they were given to me without my prompting.    I went back to the scene of the casualty and found my hubcap, laying on the small divider island out of the way of traffic and completely in tact.  I am not sure that I have ever been that excited about finding something, but here I was, recounting the event to many.

I think this is what the woman with the ten coins who lost one must have felt in Luke 15: 8-10. The value of the coin did not matter – the rest were there and were worth more collective than the one – but for her the set must have not been complete without it.  It was the thought of having only three quarters of the whole, one piece missing out of the puzzle, all but one slice of a cake gave a certain feeling of incompleteness.   How can we proceed when we feel like something is missing?  

What I learned is that it is the smallest detail that can be the key to making things complete.  The last little fondant flower on a cake, the final flourish on a piece of art, the last seasoning in your signature dish, the one hubcap are all important and unique, a major role for the artist, cook or owner, even if other take it for granted.  The greatest gift is being able to identify that which is missing, and fulfilling it to round out the set.

Consider finding what small thing it is in your life, in your task, in your goals, in your spirit, that brings completion.  Value it, pursue it, handle it with all care.