It was a couple of weeks before Christmas when I noticed it. How long had I had been oblivious? But there is was, on my ring finger, where a precious little diamond had nestled in its setting for only a short time.

We’d been married twenty years with our shiny gold wedding rings on our fourth fingers,  fortunate to be able to afford those at the time we said “I do.” Oh yes, there had been an engagement ring, a thin sliver of silver purchased for about two dollars at a Mexican market. It meant the world to me at the time, and I wore it with pride.

When Tim decided to start a business to supplement our income to his day job, I knew he had a passion and a talent to do more. After building the business to a steady income, he told me he had plans for some of the money that included buying me a diamond. Excited? YES! Feeling so loved? YES! We had always worked hard to be financially stable, watching every penny.

We were able to find an estate ring that suited our budget and our dreams. A tenth of a carat may not sound like much to many people, but to me it was the shine and beauty that counted. I would admire it when it shone in the sun or under a bright light and felt so blessed to be married to such a wonderful man. What a testimony of our love and marriage!

And then…it was gone. The prongs stood empty and ugly, and I was horrified that I hadn’t noticed sooner. I lifted up prayers to God, asking Him to help me find it, not just for myself but also for Tim who had worked so hard to be able to afford it. After searching the house thoroughly, I posted notices in the school hallways where I taught, asking the students to be alert on the playground and in the hallways for a tiny shiny stone, and even offering a monetary reward. This resulted in multitudes of children bringing me all sorts of shiny – and not so shiny – rocks during recess. They would charge up to me, their faces alit with hope and satisfaction: “Is this it??” Unfortunately, it was not to be found, and many dejected young faces turned away to continue searching.

Eventually I admitted to myself that it was gone. The busy Christmas season was upon us, so I had a jeweler fold the prongs down flat, which made it look broken and ugly. But I continued to wear it and went about my life as  usual. There was a twinge of regret and discouragement, maybe even hope,  every time I looked down at that spot that once had been so special to me. “It’s only a thing,” I told myself. I knew that what it represented was far more important. But I was disappointed in myself for not being more careful.

Christmas was approaching soon, and we were watching our budget. Buying another ring or diamond was out of the question. Every year, I would hide gifts under our bed until I was ready to wrap them, to keep them away from our children’s prying eyes. This year was no exception. As I turned on the light in my bedroom so I could see the darkness under the bed, something shiny in the corner caught my eye. Yes, it was my diamond! It had been right there all along while I was sleeping above it.

Strange, I never cried when I discovered the diamond was lost, but this time was different. Tears poured out as I knelt on the floor, thanking God for His goodness. “You didn’t need to do this!” I told Him.

What extravagant love He has for us! I felt His love and compassion holding me as never before. It makes me think of the slave of Abram and Sarai, Hagar in Genesis 16. Abraham, at the age of 86, had never been able to conceive a child with  his wife Saria up until this point. Sarai directed Hagar to bear a child with Abram, reflecting a practice where slaves were sometimes used for childbearing at that time. When Hagar became pregnant, Sarai mistreated her, so she fled into the desert. The  Angel of the Lord (the prefigured Christ) appeared to her and told her to return to Sarai and submit, with the added blessing that He would increase her descendants so much that they would be too numerous to count, she would give birth to a son, and God had heard her misery. Hagar, awash with gratitude and unbelievably humbled, acknowledged  God, “You are the one who sees me…I have now seen the One who sees me.” (v.13) Hagar obediently returned to Abram and Sarai and bore a son named Ishmael, which means “God hears.”

How has God heard your cry in the wilderness? It may not be a diamond or a pregnancy, but God hears every cry of our hearts and longs for us to cry out to Him for  answers that only He can give. As we search in the darkness for hope, for healing, for a word of wisdom, may we search His word with our own hearts to hear His voice and know His presence. May we stand in faith that He truly IS “The Living God Who Sees Me.”

Do you not know?

Have you not heard?

The Lord is the everlasting God

The creator of the ends of the earth

He will not grow tired or weary,

And His understanding no  one can fathom

He gives strength to the weary

And young men stumble and fall,

But those who hope in the Lord

Will renew their strength

They will soar on wings like eagles

They will run and not grow weary,

They will walk and not be faint.”

                                             Isaiah 40: 28-31