I lost the diamond from my wedding ring today. I had been everywhere inside and outside the house. I was calm, but felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. Things have not been easy lately, but I have felt supported and strengthened by unseen hands. I knew that I would find the diamond if it was important that I did.
So I prayed, and asked myself if it was important.
I knew that the diamond didn’t define my marriage. I knew that Richard wouldn’t be angry. I lost it because I was working so hard that I didn’t even notice that my ring was smashed, the prongs all askew.
As I searched the gravel of our yard and through boxes and shelves in the garage, I tried to gain the courage to not tell Richard until we had money again, maybe in 15 years or so.
I thought of all the women I know who have lost a diamond. I thought of the reward I would offer the movers if they found it.
My kids helped me look, and somehow I knew it had to be in the gravel in the front yard, which meant that it was gone forever. I pulled out one of the several rings that Richard has given me over the years and slipped it on my finger, ready to live without my wedding ring.
But then Timothy ran inside. He was holding the diamond, not daring to believe that he had found it. It was in the gravel in our front yard. When I hugged him, I felt his heart racing. What a lovey. I hugged and kissed everyone and said another prayer.
I guess that it was important to find it. Although I knew that my marriage and my faith didn’t hinge on the diamond, I was reminded that I’m known and loved. God is in the details of our lives.
This has been a summer of miracles for me and our family. In my efforts to be in charge of my life, I have been humbled as I have had evidence that it’s not my hands which control what happens. That’s a great comfort, because I’m pretty weak and shortsighted.