THE RING

A little over a month ago, one of my grandma’s rings was stolen.

After she died, the women of the family went through her closet and jewelry boxes and divided up her things (with my grandfather’s encouragement). It was difficult and awkward and painful, but it needed to be done while we were all in the same country together.

My grandmother didn’t really have super valuable things, but each of us wanted certain pieces that held special memories of her, little treasures to cherish and hold onto.

Grandma Theater (1 of 1)

Grandma and me (1 of 1) I have a thing for unusual, eye-catching rings, so these are mostly what I asked for.  Again, none are really valuable, but they’re special because they were my grandma’s. Too paranoid to pack them–even in my carry on bag–I wore one ring on each finger for my flight home from London. My very favorite of the rings is chunky and gold and has a little clock inside.

I left it by the sink in a restaurant bathroom the second Sunday afternoon in July.

The ring.

The ring.

Somehow, I didn’t realize I wasn’t wearing it anymore until Jon and I were getting in the car to leave.  I screeched “THE RING” and leapt out of the car.  I burst into the restaurant, ran up to the manager, and asked him if it had been turned in (it hadn’t); it was no longer in the bathroom.  Like a crazed maniac, I ran around to every woman in the restaurant and asked if she’d seen the ring.

It was my grandma’s, she died in May. Please.

The ring is gone.

I have cried bitter, gut-wrenching sobs.  I have grieved for my grandma and over this ring, over losing one of my grandma’s special treasures that I was entrusted with. I have been super angry–at myself for being careless and at the woman who stole it from the bathroom.

A few days ago, I pulled out my iPad and settled in to catch up on my #SheReadsTruth Bible plans.  The very first one that pulled up?

PRAYING FOR YOUR (PERSONAL) ENEMIES

Ugh.  At first, the thought of forgiving, of praying for, the woman who stole my grandma’s ring made me sick to my stomach.  But, in order to not let this anger and bitterness take root in my heart, to not let it become a thing, I know I need to.  For freedom, for spiritual and emotional wholeness, I need to.

This is something I’m still working through, and my daily prayer has been for Him to make me want to want to forgive her, to pray for her.  I don’t know why this woman picked up that ring and decided to slide it on her finger and walk away instead of turning it in.  But I know she needs Jesus.

And so do I.

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  • Andrea Corbin

    Bless you, darling!