This is a true story... of a missing ring. This ring:
My mom's engagement ring. My ring.
Sunday I was getting ready for church. After washing my hands and putting lotion on them, I picked up my ring to put it back on and promptly dropped it. I heard it hit something, but when I bent down to pick it up, I could.not.find.it. ANYWHERE.
Now my bathroom is very small. But the ring was nowhere to be seen. I looked everywhere. Then I had Nathan come help me look. Then I called Steve at church and had him come home and help me look. Then after church we asked Casey, Steve's best friend and the youth minister at our church, to help us look. But we could not find the ring.
It was as if it had vanished into thin air. I dumped the trash can and picked my way through each piece by hand... four times. Steve took apart the bathroom sink. We bounced other rings to see where it could have gone. But we could not find it.
So the next day, we had a plumber come out with one of those scope things. And he sent that scope 10 feet down our heating vent, but there was no ring. Just to be sure, we vacuumed the vent out and then ran our hands through all the dust and dirt, but there was no ring. So next he scoped our toilet... and went out about 35 feet. No ring.
Steve and I were stumped. Casey was stumped. The plumber was stumped. But God was in control.
I called for some prayers to go up on my behalf, and my friends and family got busy. Because this wasn't just a ring, it was my last tangible link to my mom, my best friend. It was what my dad lovingly bought for her when they decided to get married. It was what she had worn for over 25 years of marriage. It was what she left to me when she knew she was dying of cancer. And it was what I put on the day she died and have worn almost every day since.
Yeah... I lost that ring.
But after all the looking and crying and praying, Steve found my ring. It was underneath the sink cabinet, behind the baseboard, back almost to the wall and around a corner. For whatever reason (God!), Steve got the idea to pry off a section of the baseboard, and use the mirror from my compact and a flashlight to see around the tight corner. And there it was... shining in all it's brilliance.
And there was much rejoicing!
But then he had to figure out how to actually get it. He couldn't fit his hand in, and the only way he could see it was using the mirror. He had to straighten and flatten a coat hanger, make a little hook on the end of it, and then use a piece of chewed gum (my contribution) stuck to the hook to grab that ring. But it worked. It finally worked.
McGyver has nothing on my Steve!
And then he came out to me, got down on one knee, and held up my ring. I burst into tears again. I was just that happy!
Now when I look down at my left hand and see this:
I not only remember my own wedding vows, and the vows of my parents, and my mom whom I love, but I am reminded that great big mighty God loves me enough to look down from His throne to where I am, and meet me there.
And I am reminded that nothing is impossible with God.