Paul and I shopped together in downtown LA for just the right engagement ring. We were unread and did no homework before going, but we did choose a stone that was a first class cut and color. Clarity...well, you could see a couple carbon spots if your eyes are first class eyes. However, the color and cut still more than made it a good diamond according to Ivan Munson of Munson Jewelers, a long-time friend of the family. Another mistake we made is the setting. It only has four prongs. Never, ever put a good stone in just four prongs. I was washing the car before we got married and sprung one. The stone stayed put, but it weakened the entire setting.
When we came to the Philippines in 1981, I chose to put my ring and a few other things into a safe deposit box. Every trip home we would get it out right away and I would wear it the full time in the US, putting it back just days before our return to Manila. Then one year we ran out of time, so I asked Mom to do that task. She put it in a "safe" place until she could get there and promptly forgot about it. Then "our" little back house was burglarized and my grandmother's peridot (spelling) earrings were taken along with some other things. We came home and my ring was not in the safe box. Mom was horrified and insurance coughed up the money for us to buy a new set (with a small ruby on either side of the diamond). I loved it, but as we were preparing to return to Manila, Mom discovered my original! She had put it in a "safe" place! Both wedding sets went into the box!
Next time we were home I wore the original and decided to bring the second back with me. I left before Paul - unexpectedly and another long story - and he was left to put things into the box. I did not wear the new ring when I was going to be on public transportation or going places where I knew hold-ups occur. But, a year or two after our return, I went to the bank and was off to do a little grocery shopping before meeting up with some short-termers in a major shopping center when I was roped into a scam. Before I knew it, I had been robbed. My ring was gone. Never to be seen again. I suffered a lot over that loss because it was my own stupidity. I prayed while talking to them (elaborate scheme) asking God what He wanted me to do and He caused me to see the guy look at my ring. I stuck the ring in my pants pocket, but I did not get out of there, which was obviously what God was telling me to do!
Back to "the ring". We arrived back in the US and went to get my ring. No ring. Many people came to help Paul pack up the house after the kids and I had left and the ring was gone. It did not make it to the deposit box. The other items did, but not the ring. We were heartsick. We mourned the loss. Then, in 2008, we went to the safe deposit box to put stuff in and get rid of stuff that was no longer needed and I went through everything. I was greatly relieved to find that my high quality pearls and my grandmother's rubies were safe and sound. I got them out to wear, but, wait! There was something underneath in the box. My ring!!! I took it out and joyfully wore it for the few weeks left. We put it back right where we had found it before we left.
We did not get to the bank until just before we returned to the Philippines this time. I pulled the ring out and turned to Paul. "Do you mind if I take this back with us this time? What good is it sitting here in this bank? If I loose it, I loose it, but I will have lost it while enjoying it." I knew the setting was weak and I planned to see what Ivan could do to fix it, but...no time. So, we got back here. And I wore it Sunday. On the way to church (before 8) I inspected the prongs. The two of the three good ones were scooched around just a little to give the weak one a little extra strength and I thought, I need to find a good jeweler here who can fix this.
Sunday night I was walking home with Paul from the hourly parking way down the street when a street kid came running up asking for money. Now we never give cash to kids. Never. Food, yes. But, I had neither. However, I was afraid he might see my ring and I would be prey in the future. I turned my stone to the inside of my palm. After the kid left us I thought, that feels funny. I looked at it under the street light and there was no stone. My heart sank. When did it fall out? Where was it? Was it on the street back there? Was it at the hospital where we had visited one of our pastors with kidney stones? It could be anywhere.
I swept the kitchen floor and looked on the counter. I got down on my face in the bathroom to inspect the floor. Logically, I decided it had gone down the drain while washing my hands or fallen out when drying my hands - but under both towel racks are floor drains that would swallow up my little rock very nicely. It was gone.
I had been meditating all day on the difference between love and value. Our pastor kept saying that Jesus died because he valued us. NO! That is not what John 3:16 says. When men of the Bible saw the glory of God, they fell on their faces and declared how unworthy they were. All my worth, value, comes from what God put in me, gave me. It is not of me. In and of myself, I am of no value. God does not need me, but He loves me. He chose me, predestined me, called me, justified me, and glorified me because He loves me. I do not understand *why me*, but I love Him and serve Him out of gratitude for His great love and sacrifice for me.
All this came into play. Do I love that ring? I had to conclude that I do not. Love for that ring died a long time ago when I thought it was gone - again. Do I value it? Yes. In and of itself it has value. I can sell it and receive money for it (though probably not it's worth.) If I loved it, I would not have brought it to the Philippines. Cousin Bill was a Lieutenant in the US Air Force when he married. On top of the last box to leave his parents' home for his new home with his bride was a pathetic teddy bear. An ear and an arm were missing. He had mildew from being sucked on as a toddler and his fuzz was about 25% of the original. That teddy belonged on the trash heap. He had no value. But! Bill loved it! It was a prized possession of his, to be taken to his new home. I am that teddy to the Lord. He made mankind beautiful and whole, but we are missing parts, have skin blemishes and mildew. Yet, He gave His only begotten Son for us ... because He loved us. All He asks is that we love Him back - with our ALL - and that means above all else, even our own lives.
Do I love my ring? No. I did not cry, I did not mourn, I did not lie awake all night.
But! Monday morning Paul and I went back to the section of street where I had twirled my ring to see if we could catch a sparkle, that was not broken glass, in the sunshine . When Fely came to work I told her about the missing stone. I told her I had only been in the kitchen (it could be in the veggie bins, on the counters, in the freezer, etc), the office and our bathroom. She went to work with her eyes open. She cleans the kitchen on Mondays, so it was perfect. I was not feeling well all weekend and getting worse, so I was in bed when she came to the door, "Ma'am, I found it!". Sure enough. There was my stone in her hand. It had been on the counter near the juicer.
Did I rejoice? Yes! I enjoy my ring. I value it and want to wear it. But if it is gone, it will be history with a real story! Now to find that jeweler!
