The Restoration Tour

The first step toward the restoration of our marriage after the vision brings me deep shame to admit here.  In the Christmas season of 2007, my wife took on a part time, seasonal job at Target.  Christmas help for some extra spending money.  While working there, she caught her ring on a shopping cart and severely damaged it.

The ring was, like her, very unique and special, just like the marriage it represented.  It was flashy, elegant, and it stood out.  Picking it out and buying it for her was one of the truly remarkable moments of my life.  There was a part that overlapped and extended beyond the rest of the ring.  This was the part that snagged and it was bent almost to breaking, losing some of the baguettes in the process.

Soon afterward, I took it to a local jeweler for repairs.  He didn’t seem real interested in fixing it, making a lot of excuses and asking for an exorbitant amount of money.  I returned home with the ring in a tiny zip lock bag.  I put it in a drawer and after a while, it was “out of sight, out of mind.”

You might ask yourself how a husband could possibly be as much a fool as I have been.  You would be right to ask that question.

Coming out of the vision, the first thing that was clear to me was that my wife’s wedding ring needed to be repaired, no matter what the cost, and returned to her finger.  To say that I loathed myself that day would not really capture the spirit of the moment.  I was overcome with guilt, shame, and an overwhelming sense of wondering how I could be so blind and stupid.  How could I not have known that this was unacceptable? There was no defense for my lack of caring and concern.  This was the Spring of 2010 and the ring had been damaged in December of 2007.

I didn’t say anything to my wife, but I put the bag into my pocket when I left for the gym.  I worked out, then planned to find a place to take the ring.  As I was leaving the fitness center, I was thinking to myself, “I don’t know any jewelers.  I don’t even know where to go.”

As I was thinking this, I was making a left turn out of the parking lot and found myself looking at a storefront window that said, “Jeweler” and “repairs” in large letters.  Right across the street from where I worked out nearly every day was a small shop and I turned in.  I spoke with the man and showed him the ring.

He had a great plan for how to not only fix the ring, but to make it stronger than before.  The price he quoted me was a fraction of the estimate I had gotten at the other store.  He explained that the finished product wouldn’t be as fancy as the original ring, but that it would still be very beautiful and, more importantly, it would be strong enough to withstand the type of accident that had gotten us here.