Who Done It?

Mar 4

When I first moved into my present community, someone generously gifted us a set of eight Cutco knives. As someone who loves welcoming people to dinner and taking care to set an attractive table, I was delighted by the gift.

About three years ago, I used those knives for a barbecue dinner with Oblates and friends. The evening was wonderful. The next day, as I unloaded the dishwasher and began putting everything away, plates, utensils, glasses, I counted the knives before placing them back in their block. Seven. I counted again. Still seven.

One was missing.

I searched the kitchen drawers, the countertops, and the sink. Nothing. By then, the trash had already been taken out. The knife was gone.

Even now, when I look at the knife box and count only seven knives, I feel a small but familiar ache. And, if I am honest, without a shred of evidence, I have quietly assigned blame to a particular member of the community. No proof, just a story I have told myself.

It is striking how something so small can linger, how easily loss turns into suspicion, and how quickly the heart fills in the gaps when something precious goes missing.

Love, forgiveness, repentance, hope, faithfulness, these movements are daily work. If a box of 7 knives causes my heart to ache and blame, imagine what the rest of life does.

Return to me with your whole heart, says the Lord. I can’t do that alone, I need help. I need grace. I need the Lord. I need Lent.

Thank you for the Cutco knives. I learned a lot from them.

May God Be Praised!