It wasn’t the gift I expected, but it promised forever.
On our second Christmas as a couple, I held a secret wish in my heart as I sat beneath the Christmas tree. David and I planned to walk the aisle in August of the coming year. In my mind, Christmas seemed like the ideal time for the question and the ring.
I opened my gift, a rectangular-shaped box wrapped in thick red paper. Inside the box, a gold slide bracelet sat atop soft velvet lining. On any other day, my excitement would have been hard to contain. However, because of my deflated expectations, I forced a smile.
David proudly pointed out the merit of his well-intentioned gift. With each year, he could add a new slide to the bracelet. He spoke of birthstones for our yet-to-be-born children and gems to mark special occasions. While his gift was not the ring, it still spoke of his promise to me. I would be his forever. The bracelet represented our future together.
One week later, on New Year’s night, he knelt down in a lighted gazebo and asked for my forever. He slid a ring on my finger, symbolizing a promise fulfilled. My Christmas bracelet dangled from my wrist as I stared at the ring that made me his.
Jesus wasn’t the Messiah the Israelites expected. He wasn’t born in a palace with religious and ceremonial fanfare. Rather, he made his appearance in a stable with only the working class shepherds to witness his birth. He lacked royal parents, riches, and influence, offering humility, poverty, and service instead.
Continue reading The Gift that Promises Forever at The Glorious Table.
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