God’s been teaching me a lot about Himself in funny ways lately.
For my 20th birthday, my parents gave me an amazing ring. It had a big blue topaz stone in the middle with five tiny diamonds lining either side. I was not expecting anything at all for my birthday: I can rarely think of anything I want other than books.
Our family went out for a birthday lunch after church. I opened up the tiny ring box and I loved it! I’m not the type to spend hundreds of dollars on jewellery — I don’t think I own a piece worth over thirty dollars. I put the ring on my fourth finger on my right hand. I couldn’t stop looking at it for weeks. As silly and materialistic as a diamond ring may sound, I loved it. It was mine.
I rarely take my ring off and never during the day. Every other night or so, I take it off and place it in a bowl on the top my dresser. Every morning, I put it on before I get in the shower. I wear it all day, everyday. We were in arizona on vacation for two weeks and the ring came with. I replaced the “bowl on top of my dresser” with a white jewellery box I brought from home. I put my ring there at night sometimes. One day we were out all day long and I realized I wasn’t wearing my ring. I thought to myself, no problem, I must have left it in the white box. We arrived back exhausted at 10 o’ clock. I didn’t bother to check. The next morning we are up and out all day. I didn’t have my ring.
That night we were at the condo around dinnertime. I checked the white box. It wasn’t there. Once I put it in my make-up bag . . . it wasn’t there. Okay, another time, I put it on my smaller cosmetic bag . . . it wasn’t there. I checked my bedroom floor, my bathroom floor, all the drawers, every surface in the entire house, both my purses . . . not there. We were late for dinner and a hockey game so I told myself I’d check later. It had to be here somewhere.
Once back I looked for a while longer. I thought about the last time I wore it. I looked down at my ring finger, right hand. A few days ago, that finger held my ring, now it was empty. I emailed my aunt about perhaps leaving it at their rental home: which didn’t make sense because I never take it off in the daytime.
The following morning, I was distressed. I looked down at my empty right hand and I felt angry tears form. I felt ridiculous. This is a ring, this is just a possession. I started to cry but stopped myself. This is just a ring, be calm, keep looking. Lord, help me find my ring. I know you know where it is: I know you’ve helped me find things before. I tore apart the house, down on my hands and knees in every dusty corner.
The email from my aunt came in: we’ve checked the entire floor of our place, it’s not here. I felt like crying again: I was holding out hope for their home. I grabbed the keys and checked the car. I moved every seat, lifted up every mat, even lifted up the seats in the back seat. I literally climbed in the trunk to lift up the interior liner and check all the corners. It’s nowhere. back inside, I can’t stop talking out loud. my parents are around but staying silent for the most part. I know they are praying. My dad says, Jamie, you’ve done what you can. We’ll buy you a new one. It must not be here. I reply, I don’t WANT a new one, I want THIS one. It’s NOT the money. I have more than enough money saved . . . this one is mine.
I’m in the master bedroom, searching again — feels useless but at least my parents are there and I have someone to talk to. “I’m going to rent this stinking house out until I find my ring. I’m not leaving on saturday without it,” I say. Mom laughs, like that makes economical sense?! I explode, “I don’t CARE about making economical sense, I want my ring.“
I huff back up a flight of stairs to my bedroom. I flop on my bed, eyes closed. Lord, I need your help. I don’t know where this is. I’ve looked everywhere. It’s nowhere. I don’t understand it. I know this is an earthly possession, it’s stupid that I’m crying over this, but I know you love me, I know you care about the things my heart cares about. I laid there for about 10 minutes.
It was time to get-going for the day. I walked downstairs in defeat. Tears formed despite my best efforts to halt them. “Mom, I am so frustrated. I don’t feel like doing anything, seeing anybody, going anywhere until I find my ring. I can’t help it. My mom walks to the backyard, I grab the keys to check the car a second time.”
I lifted up everything that can be lifted up in the car, searched meticulously on my hands on knees. I fliped down the backseat middle armrest and check the cup holders . . . empty. I was resting on the back seat, flat on my stomach when I caught a glimmer of silver. I couldn’t see the stone. It could have been a bolt or a screw. I reached my hand desperately through the crack and pull out my ring. Immediately, I started crying. I couldn’t help but yell, I FOUND IT, I FOUND IT even though I was all alone in a driveway on a silent street. I put it on my finger and ran into the house, smiling like a fool, joyful tears were glistening in my eyes.
My mom came in from the backyard, smiling, wrapping me in a big hug as I wiped tears away. “Praise the Lord,” she said. “I’m so glad.” My dad walked out of the master, “I was praying all morning, Jamie. I knew God would help you, I just kept praying. That’s so good.” I look back at my mom, she’s now laughing. “Do you know what I was doing just now in the backyard? looking through Jeffrey’s (the dog’s) poop — how’s that for a committed mother?
The experience of those few days have been replaying over and over in my mind. I think about the parable in the Bible of the woman looking for one lost coin. I think about the good shepherd leaving ninety-nine sheep to find one who has gone astray. I think about her joyful tears when she finds the coin, his ear-to-ear smile when the lone sheep is carried home to the flock.
I felt God speaking, this is how I feel about you. This is how I feel about all people. When you’re not with me? It hurts. I can’t stop thinking about you, desiring you, wanting you near me, wanting you with me all the time. Nothing else is of a higher priority to me than you. I weep when you are lost.
And when I find you? I feel joy unspeakable. When you come back to me? Joy indescribable. Joy that makes me weep with overwhelming love for you. Like your diamond ring, I desire you not because you are worth hundreds of dollars, not because you make me more complete & definitely not because I need you. I desire you, simply because you are mine.
Perhaps those frustrating, tearful hours spent searching for my ring were solely to have this simple truth written upon my heart in a new way.
Republished with permission from jamiedelaineblog.com
