It was one ordinary moment out of one ordinary day. It was 10:30 in the morning, and I decided to put some ingredients in the crockpot for dinner. As I was opening cans and draining liquid, going from the sink to the counter to the crockpot, I accidentally knocked over a glass that was sitting in the sink.
Not a big deal. Certainly not the first time I had broken a glass. And since this one broke cleanly in the sink, there was only one fragment to clean up. This was a relatively small thing, and I went on with preparations with dinner, also wondering what to have for lunch. (Has anyone else noticed how much we eat when in quarantine? It’s like every moment, we’re wondering what we can eat next.)
I happened to look down at my engagement ring and notice what looked like a chip taken out of it. I scrubbed at it, hoping that it was just a spot of food. But it didn’t budge. I knew diamonds were not supposed to be easily chipped or scratched, but what I saw convinced me that my diamond was ruined. I couldn’t bear to look at it, so I put it out of sight for the rest of the day.
I contacted the jewelry store, which of course couldn’t help me until the stay-at-home order is lifted. In short, I was devastated. For 17 years of marriage and nine months of wearing it before that, I had managed not to ruin my ring. And yet, in one ordinary moment out of one ordinary day, it seemed beyond repair.
And in some ways, that’s how I felt too. I told a friend the other day that lately I have felt like one of those moles in that Whac-a-Mole game. You know, where those plastic moles come up out of their holes, and contestants try to see how many moles they can hit with their clubs?
Every time I’ve managed to rise from one obstacle, peer out of one hole, I get knocked back down by something else – sometimes something even bigger than what knocked me down the prior times. Can you relate?
I only share this because I know with all that our nation and even the world is going through with Covid-19, I imagine there are many, many people dealing with uncertainty and discouragement. And to me, my damaged ring was symbolic of the hardships everyone is going through right now.
For a diamond ring, to a young girl who was voted “most romantic” in her high-school yearbook, symbolizes hopes and dreams. It sparkles. It’s lovely. Every time you look at it, you see a new facet to its glory. Humans do not fare so well. Over the years, wrinkles set in. Patches of gray or white appear in one’s hair (and then spread). Knees, hips, and backs are sore more often than not, and sometimes decide to quit working altogether.
And the wistfulness of youth fades. Dreams sometimes vanish. Hope seems like a thing of the past. A big divot right in the middle of what used to be a sparkly diamond. Sometimes when we’re knocked down, we cannot properly see. And we need a friend to come alongside of us and be our eyes. In my case, this time around, my husband took a look at my ring. It was about 9 at night, and I told him I had banished it upstairs because I could not bear to gaze upon it in its forlorn state.
I was in the other room when I heard his response to his first glance at the ring: “Wow! It really took a divot out of it, didn’t it?”
To which I replied, “I told you it was ruined!” (Note: I am not usually this dramatic.)
I didn’t hear from him for a few moments, and then he said, “Come look at it now.” And when I looked, behold, my ring was as good as new! I couldn’t believe it! I was equal parts relieved and sheepish.
“But it looked so much like a real divot had been taken out of it!” I exclaimed. Matt agreed that it had. However, with some perseverance, he was able to scrub off the offending piece of whatever-it-was. And my ring was not, after all, ruined forever.
I have been mulling this over for the past few days, wondering what I should learn from this, what it may have to do with the bigger picture of the chaos and lack of control we are all feeling in our world today.
Recently, I began re-reading a devotional my sister gave me 20 years ago (!!) that has survived all of my decluttering purges, all of my Goodwill donation runs over the years. And I’m so thankful it is still with me because it has been so timely. Penelope Stokes is the author, and she writes about 52 virtues.
Concerning perseverance, she cites Hebrews 11 and its stories of some heroes of the faith. And I love her thoughts here: But the catalogue of saints and heroes in Hebrews 11 doesn’t stop with the victors. For it’s not success that demonstrates the presence and power of God, but perseverance.
This one sentence just nailed it for me. For so often, we feel like success is a measure of God’s presence in our lives, His favor over us. But that’s not always the case. Sometimes it is, and praise God for that. But other times, it’s not. There are some cases we read about in Hebrews 11 where the person of faith succeeded, but there are others who did not.
Verse 39 tells us: These were commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised.
But they weren’t commended for their physical success or for the picture of success they portrayed. No, they were commended for persevering in their faith. The kind of faith, as we’re told in Hebrews 11:1, is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.
Why was Matt able to clean the imperfection off of my ring when I wasn’t? Because I didn’t persevere. I saw what it looked like. I believed what my eyes told me, and my emotions followed. Even though I made a pass at trying to fix it, when it didn’t work right away, I declared it all a loss. I couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. I needed a fresh pair of eyes and someone who in that moment had more staying power than I did.
My dear mother sent my daughter a very precious book called The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy. It chronicles the adventures and the friendship of a boy, a mole, a fox, and a horse. They share advice with one another along the way.
And I just love this exchange between the horse and the boy:
“Sometimes,” said the horse.
“Sometimes what?” asked the boy.
“Sometimes just getting up and carrying on is brave and magnificent.”
Later in the book, the horse has some more advice for the boy:
“We have such a long way to go,” sighed the boy.
“Yes, but look how far we’ve come,” said the horse.
And another note on perseverance:
“When the dark clouds come . . . keep going. When the big things feel out of control . . . focus on what you love right under your nose.”
Some people are using this “pause” to declutter their homes and accomplish very specific goals, while others are using it to get away from their normal busy schedules and reconnect with their immediate families in person or extended families and friends via Zoom or Facetime.
For some, it will be a time to get things done at home. For others, it will be a time to step away from the sometimes-idol of productivity and be still. But for all of us, the key is perseverance. Persevering in a new, healthier habit. Persevering in relationships. Persevering in just getting up and carrying on. Because as Christians, we have hope beyond what we can see at any given time with our physical eyes.
So we’re not giving up. How could we! Even though on the outside it often looks like things are falling apart on us, on the inside, where God is making new life, not a day goes by without his unfolding grace.
These hard times are small potatoes compared to the coming good times, the lavish celebration prepared for us. There’s far more here than meets the eye. The things we see now are here today, gone tomorrow. But the things we can’t see now will last forever (2 Corinthians 4:16-18, MSG).
Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality (Romans 12:11-13, ESV).
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