Skip to main content

The Ring


The THEN: 
For a while now, anytime a birthday has approached or Christmas time has come, my mom has taken Wes out, just the two of them, to buy a present for me. She has found though that she has had to gently guide him in his purchasing decisions because he tends to want to buy me weapons or super hero figurines. My mom would ask, “Do you really think your mom would like this?” “Oohhhhhh yes, I know she would” would be his reply. Privately, she would laugh a little about it and then she would sweetly steer him towards something different. He would always decide later that the gift that he and my mom picked out was a good one and he would be satisfied. 

The NOW:

Friday, August 25, 2:45 pm

I had just dropped my kids off at music class and had sat down in my desk chair to work on a few lesson plans. The door pops open and in walks Wesley from his classroom next door. He has this half smile on his face and walks towards me while holding his hands behind his back as if he is hiding something. I pretend to not notice. I figure he is about to show me some writing work he has just completed. 

“Hey man, whatcha doing?”

“Weeelll, hey mom. So, I wanted to come over here because I went to the ticket store in Mrs. Stewart’s room just now.”

The students in Mrs. Stewart’s 1st grade class receive tickets for reading extra minutes during the week and then they get to spend their tickets at the store on Fridays to purchase small items.

“You did? Well, that is so much fun!”

“Yes and I had 20 tickets to use. I spent 10 tickets on a light saber sword for me and then I spent the other 10 tickets on this for you.” 





The English language, well wait, let me rephrase that beginning. There isn’t a single language ever created in all the world that has a powerful enough word that would accurately describe my feelings in this moment. This is the first time my little man has earned his own “money” and then also purchased me a gift straight from his own heart. And this gift…it was not the gift of a superhero or a nerf gun or a star wars replica of the millennium falcon, but something he knew I would really love…a beautiful, sparkly, lovely made,  ring. This ring, oh this ring, it has a bright pink jewel surrounded by a beautiful silver base with details along the edge. It only fits on my pinky, but I wear that ring more proudly than I’ve ever worn any piece of jewelry from any guy in my life. My dad and my son, the two men that will always have my love.

As he walked back to his class room, I could still see how proud he was that I was so in love with this new piece of jewelry (that I will never, ever, ever, ever take off.)  Right before leaving he said,

“And mom, can you show all your students what I bought you?”

“I will show it and I will shout it from the rooftop Wes. I love you.”

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Divorce and the Land of Israel

(If you are here, the very first thing I want you to read is this: Writing about a divorce can be sticky. I would never want to hurt B in any way. So, please know this post is about the divorce, not about B.)     Rejection.   In the past, I’d had friends hurt my feelings. I was dumped in college. There were jobs I wasn’t offered. There were times I wasn’t invited. But that was pretty much it. The rejection I had felt in my life was, what I would consider, typical.   When I found out B had filed for divorce, I was devastated. Normal, right? I think so. I was intensely sad and cried every day. This too, did not surprise me. In fact, during those first few months, I didn’t fight it. When the sobbing began, I would stop what I was doing so I could heave it out until that episode was over. I also expected the standard emotions that sadness brings with it; disappointment, depression, grief. I wept through each of these and these sorrowful emotions became increasingly better wit

God, and our rental home.

I was still living in the home that once held our family of five.  Rooms were now completely empty, the living room bare and our bedroom was...well...void.  B and his kids had left. I would collapse at the smallest emotional trigger, a "train-wreck" as some people commonly refer to it. I shed tears daily, sometimes hourly. The failure of my marriage felt catastrophic.  Spiritual questions loomed in my mind. Could I hear the Lord? Where was he in all of this? Wasn't he here...somewhere? It didn't feel like it. And if he was, I certainly couldn't hear him. I'd been taking steps one-at-a-time for a couple months, but on one particular day, I was told I had to find a new place to live too. I was crushed. Taking the first steps were hard, but having to leave our home, this home we'd bought together, lived in together, made memories in together...the permanence of this step was overwhelming.  I could barely think straight.  In fact, all I really knew was that I

They've been disarmed.

“Eric held him down until the police could get the gun out of his hand.” My friend, Beth, told me this story about her husband, a firefighter who helped wrestle a person to the ground during an emergency call yesterday.    This troubled man reached and successfully grabbed an officer’s gun from her belt, but was immediately subdued when four people, including Eric, pounced upon him. They restrained him until they had retrieved the gun and could carefully stand up again.    The culprit was disarmed.   Everyone was safe.   I love a story of valor.   Just a day before, I’d been reading through Colossians and came to chapter 2, verse 15, “He disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, triumphing over them…”   My eyes veered back to “disarmed.” The Holy Spirit seemed to be highlighting that word in my heart, giving it an intense weight. I studied it. Originating in the late 14th century, it meant to “deprive of power to injure or terrify, render harmless.” Unable to caus