A Requiem For A Ring

My husband and I married in 1973, us two, high school sweethearts who wed one year after graduation. Babes in the woods. The same year Elton John crooned "Daniel", and the price of a gallon of gas, 40 cents. Our nights cruising around the Speck Drive-In in the past, we had a life to build now in the city of our births. Much has changed since that year long ago; computers and iPhones, Facebook and Twitter, rush hour traffic at two in the afternoon, Amazon and eBay. How can this be? Where has the time gone? There are too many TV channels to choose from! How does this happen? When the past and present co-mingle in the same millisecond and you click the mouse on your computer while humming a refrain from "Hey Jude". And when you recall an old television show at work, the only co-workers who nod in nostalgic agreement are the ones who color over their gray and  read up on Medicare enrollment. Change is good. Change is slow. Change is inevitable.

A few years ago my wedding ring showed aging signs. And after it started to catch on clothing and the two bands threatened separation I took it for repairs. For the first time since our engagement, my ring finger was bare. But when the salesperson lifted the ring from the canary-gold envelope my toes tickled happy. I gazed in awe at this shiny golden adornment. Slipping it on my finger I wondered at the longevity of this wedding token and how a jeweler could transform the broken into the majestic. I studied the intricate lines etched into the linked bands, the now shimmery diamonds and glistening gold. After a moment I paused, inhaled slow, my thoughts hijacked by an image of LaRog jewelers, to that store commanding the street corner where we purchased our rings all those years ago. This isn't my ring! It's gorgeous but not the same. I want my ring from 1973! Slowly, ever so carefully, I slipped the ring from my finger and made my plea. "My ring had antiquing in the grooves. It must have rubbed off during the restoration." Politely I asked, "Would you please fix it?" The manager apologized, returned it to the jeweler who converted the ring back to its former glory.

Lately I've wondered if that is what God does for us. Maybe he sees the glistening gold deep down inside our wayward hearts and He brims over with everlasting joy at each baby step we take towards His light and truth. And perhaps every now and then our evolving selves need an illuminating brushstroke or two of his  magnificent, restoring grace. One step, one change, one revelation at a time.

To the degree you experience God loving you as His Beautiful

You will be changed into Beautiful