The Ring

A few weeks ago Ellie, of One Crafty Mother, emailed that I had won her biweekly giveaway. She makes the most beautiful hand crafted jewelry, you must run over and check out her Etsy shop, Shining Stones. The giveaway that I had entered was for a ring. A gorgeous ring with an amethyst stone. I was in love before it arrived.

The ring came. I excitedly unwrapped the package, and plunged the hand made silver ring onto my right hand ring finger.

There it was. Beautiful, dainty, amethyst, and stuck.

Very stuck.

So stuck that a few tablespoons of olive oil couldn't get it unstuck. I twisted, turned, prayed. Called my husband while digging through the toolbox for wire cutters.

Nothing.

Kids were crying at my feet for attention. But there I stood, in front of the sink with my hand in a glass of ice water. Trying to reduce the size of my finger. To make it work.

Finally a combination of cold running water mixed with olive oil, all purpose cleaner and dish soap, along with much clenching of the teeth and pulling and twisting... the ring came off.

And thankfully, Ellie, in all of her fabulousness, responded to a crazed email {from a certain person with olive oil scented hands} that she could resize the ring.

Sidenote ~ when Ellie notified me about the giveaway, she also let me know that the word Amethyst comes from the Greek word meaning "without drunkenness". Fitting, wouldn't you say? {Did I mention Ellie is another recovering alcoholic, who gets it? Really truly gets it. She's incredible, and an inspiration. And you know how I found her? Heather. Seriously, once you find one of us, you find a whole slew of sober sisters...} In any case, she also informed me that amethyst supposedly has healing powers, and is beneficial for calming the mind. Again, how fitting.

The day the ring arrived was a difficult one. Fynn vomited for the first time, ever. In my bed. Naptime was ended abruptly, cups of water were poured over the edge of the tub at bathtime. Markers were used as eye makeup. It was exhausting. So when the package graced my mailbox with it's presence, my first thought was I so deserve this.

And then it didn't fit. Not only did it not fit, but I forced it onto my finger to make it fit. I had no patience.

I did not deserve it, or what it symbolized. I felt entitled, I was hasty, selfish. I paid for all of that with the half an hour it took to remove the darn thing. And had a sore finger, rubbed red and raw, that stung for the entire weekend.

Feelings of entitlement do not make a humble person. A selfless person. A thankful person.

I looked at drinking in the same light. After a long day with the kids I'd call and demand a bottle of wine. I deserved it, after all.

But why? Why did I deserve it? Why couldn't I look at what had been given to me, and take the gifts in my life {aka... family... kids... a roof over my head...} for just that. Gifts. Not to be simply dealt with, and then shoved aside at the end of the day for a glass with liquid courage and falsities. But to be appreciated, thankful for, humbled by.

This past Friday the ring returned. And right now? My hands are a little swollen from who knows what. My knuckles are wider, and the ring is a little tight. But I'll wait. It's now the right size, but it's me that needs a little working on. And I'll work, and wait before I plunge it down my finger.

A little bit of patience, a dab of honesty, and an acknowledgement of a few shortcomings can go a long way. Grace comes when we need it the most, even if it's not what we expect. It's always a gift, no matter the form.

Above all the grace and the gifts that Christ gives to his beloved is that of overcoming self. ~ Francis of Assisi

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I'm linking up this post to Tuesday's Unwrapped hosted by Emily at Chatting at the Sky . Please join me in celebrating the every day moments that turn into gifts to treasure.