This time, we did not find it. It is still out there, somewhere. Buried in the snow.
It must have fallen out of my pocket when I took the boys' mittens out. There we were, all four of us, kicking and digging around a few square meters. Only two of us were really looking though, I think. Emeth tried his best. And Yohanan cheered us on with his laughs, looking like an astronaut in his red snowsuit.
While we were looking, Emeth prayed with daddy, "Lord, please help us find mommy's key." After an hour of searching, he prayed again, "Thank you, Lord, for helping us."
He did not say, "even though we did not find it." Like I would have.
Grace in the losing,
grace in the looking,
grace in the waiting.
UPDATE: Hans found my key, again. He found it as he systematically brushed the snow off the ground. Grace in the finding.