As I was leaving the office yesterday, I had a large box in my arms. I pushed open the heavy automatic door but it shut before I was fully outside. My left hand was crushed between the door and the box I was holding. The pain was quite intense but I made it to the car, put the box and my purse in the back and got in the driver’s seat. As I pulled out of the parking spot, I glanced down at my throbbing fingers.

My diamond was gone! Apparently the door had caught on my engagement ring, bent two of the prongs and knocked the diamond out of it. I immediately reversed the car and got out to begin looking. How hard was the force of the blow? Where did it land? Which direction would it have flown? 

A colleague exited after me and joined in the search. We looked all around the door, inside and out, on the carpet, sidewalk, flowerbeds and my car, but could not see it. I called my husband to break the news and ask his advice. How long does one keep searching for something one values? He said he’d come back after dark with a flashlight and look. My heart began to sink. Silent sobs filled my heart. After thirty years, the symbol of my undying love was gone!

That evening, after his fruitless search, I thought how I often teach on loss and grief. This loss in no way rivals the loss of my spouse himself, but is still significant. My husband spent a fair amount of money on that diamond. And he was a poor college student! How could I treat it so lightly? How could I lose the symbol of our love?

Then I was remembered our vows: This ring I give you, in token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love. The whole ring is the symbol—not just the diamond. The diamond, while the most expensive and eye-catching, is the decoration, the bilas, as we say in Tok Pisin. It’s the outside, the dressing only. I still have the ring. While damaged, it can be repaired. Just because the tangible representation of our love is incomplete, our love is not.

I searched for some advice on the internet. One Jeweler reminded me that “a diamond is just a thing. The love that it represents is what really matters.” Several testimonies of others who had lost diamonds and found them gave me hope. So, I sent out some SOS requests for prayer from family and close friends. But I was resigned to the reality I may have to look for alternative bling.

I returned to the office a bit early this morning, got down on my hands and knees and began a more thorough search. Today’s receptionist, Dawn, saw me, heard my sob story and opened the door to help. “Where were you?”, she asked, immediately followed by, “I found it!”

Sure enough, there it was, upside down in a crack in the cement. I’m certain I looked there as did my colleague and husband yesterday. But this was the moment the light hit just right to reveal the wayward jewel. Hugs were shared all around and rejoicing that the lost has now been found and ready for repair.

So what did I learn?

Ask for help! 
Don’t try to open a heavy door with a huge box in your hands by yourself. 
My husband is the greatest. He never once made me feel worse than I already did.
Our love is strong and not harmed by a lost symbol.
Symbols are valued items and losing them is a significant loss. 
Get your rings inspected regularly for loose prongs. 
Persistence pays off. 
Friends who help in times of need are a great encouragement. 
Shared requests for prayer mean shared joy in the answer. 
Sometimes God answers prayer quickly.