The Lost Ring

“‘Or suppose a woman has ten silver coins and loses one. Does she not light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, “Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.” In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.’” Luke 15:8-10, NIV.

It was forty minutes into the flight when I realized it was gone. The plane had already departed, the flight attendant had mechanically given the safety demonstration, and we had settled comfortably into the last leg of our 10,000 mile trip from the Pacific Rim to the U.S. It was not that I saw it was gone as much as I sensed it was gone. Maybe my thumb rubbing the back of my fingers felt the difference. Or, even stranger, maybe my finger just felt lighter. When I looked down at my left hand the sapphire ring I wear with my wedding band was gone.

My stomach lurched. My body tensed. My mind fought with my senses to convince me that my eyes were playing tricks on me. The ring was really not gone, but it was! Tears welled in my eyes as I told my husband that I had lost the ring. It was a simple ring, but I thought it was elegant. The jeweler described it as cornflower blue. I loved even the name of the color. It reminded me not of cornflowers, but the blue bachelor buttons I used to plant in the garden as a child. I called the flight attendant, and told her my story. She could detect the panic in my voice and said she would see what she could do.

I had been foolish. At the O'Hare airport gate I had taken off the ring. My hands were cracked and hurting from the dry air of the plane and I wanted to apply hand cream. I didn't have a pocket so I set the ring on my knee. I suppose I got distracted watching the various people who were as anxious as I to get to their destination, so I forgot to replace my ring. So now, I was waiting for the flight attendant to return, hoping that she would say the ground crew found the ring under the seats.

I thought of asking God to work a miracle. But something in my heart restrained me from making that request, a request I knew He could accomplish. Instead I asked, "God do I dare ask you to intervene to find my ring, something that is of really no value to You?"

There was not a moment of hesitation in His reply. Nor was His voice harsh or incriminating. Instead, it was sorrowful and disappointed. He said, "Oh, like Jonah, you demonstrate more concern over what is really of no lasting value---a ring---than you do for the real valuables of this world---the lost peoples. This intense urgency you feel to recover a lost ring is how I wish you felt toward the numerous lost Indians." 

I knew then that I would never find the ring. I knew that I would voluntarily choose never to wear another ring beside my wedding band. The absence of the ring would now be a reminder to me to pray for my people group---to pray that I would feel the urgency to reach every lost soul. I want to feel that lost people are more precious than a ring with a cornflower blue gem stone.

*Excerpt  from a Pacific Rim worker’s newsletter.

Pray that:

God will give all Pacific Rim workers His perspective and passion about the lost peoples living around them.

The Indians living in the Pacific Rim will realize how precious they are to God and will receive the gift of salvation found in Christ.

Rings and other precious possessions will be willingly laid down for the joy of following Christ, the One who for the joy before Him willingly laid down the glory of heaven for us.