“If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle.” ~ Steve Jobs
I’m not a very sentimental person. If I’ve learned much in life, it is to not hold on tightly to “things” for they can always be lost or taken away. Rather, hold onto memories and cherish them for they are yours forever. . .or until dementia sets in.
Life has been hectic lately. Resigning from a job to begin another. Buying a home out of state. Legal issues. Packing. Planning. Lenders. Closing. Court summons. Money wires. Background checks. Utilities. All whirling together to create all manner of stress.
Not that I pride myself on it, because I don’t, but resilience is a skill set I’ve achieved over the years out of necessity and self-preservation. Rolling with the challenges, accepting things for what they are and learning to adapt.
But not my rings — these are two of the few tangible assets that hold great sentimental value for me.
One is the confirmation gift from my godmother when I joined the Catholic Church – – a tradition began many years before by godmothers thru the years. A reminder of God’s never-ending love for me.
The second is my wedding ring from Ireland with continuous celtic knots. A reminder of love shared despite distance.
With the stressors of the past few weeks causing fluctuations in my weight to the negative side, my rings were loose. As I left work the other morning, I realized my rings were absent. AWOL. I took a deep breath, willing myself not to panic.
I quickly took inventory of my person — checking all the pockets of my scrubs, my bag, my coat, my gloves, my car. And then again. And again. I turned the house upside down. I left a message for housekeeping and posted a photo on Facebook in case my co-workers found them. The admissions clerk and I even went dumpster diving to pull the smaller trash bags which were summarily scanned by the sweetest, most understanding radiology tech in hopes of finding the rings.
I won’t lie. I bawled. I sobbed. Most of the day. When I went to work last night my eyes were still swollen and gritty with the saltiness of my tears.
I resigned myself to their loss.
And then. . .
This afternoon as I headed to my car to come to work, I was watching where I stepped as the yard was quite muddy. A glimpse of something shiny registered in my peripheral vision. Upon closer inspection, I found the thin gold band on it’s side, pushed down into the mud where it had fallen underfoot. Looking further, I found the silver band lying flat and even with the surface of the mud almost imperceptible in it’s camouflage.
And I bawled.
I made myself late for work by taking them in and giving them a good washing before I slid them back into place. As I drove, I considered the implications the whole incident has on my faith.
Many times we feel that a situation is lost. We feel lost. Sometimes, it can feel lonely. God can take things that appear lost, dragged thru the mud, and put them back in their rightful place.
Lesson learned: It’s important to keep the faith despite outward appearances.