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My day was spent wrapped around his arm, casually slipping past the hips of people, fervently cascading through the jewelry shops in the mall. The display window at Classic Jewelers was arranged with eye twinklers of every sort. The case dazzled like stars peering through a midnight sky. Imagine choosing the brightest star among many. I carefully placed the wide table solitaire on the cross patterns of my palm. I turned my back from the showcase to separate the brilliance from the other diamond’s unyielding glare.
The kaleidoscope of prisms mesmerized my thoughts to a deeper question, how would my soon to be husband love me? We have spent two years harnessing one another’s being; delving into places of the unknown, sometimes unbeknownst to ourselves. Like the time I shared my third grade time capsule with him. Inside the wooden cigar crate were strips of fabric from the dresses my mother sewed for me. My most memorable frock was the A–line white eyelet. I wore it during sweltering summers in Louisiana. The gentleness of my fiancée’s brawn but manicured hands, caressed the eyelet fabric, and he assured me for every hole my heart had endured he would ease my fear by leading me to Christ to fill those wounds with love. His perspective framed a picture I hadn’t seen before that moment, the connection of my childhood bruises and the holes of white eyelet were within Christ’s touch.
The diamond’s center reflected light from the recessed spotlights in the ceiling. I saw hope in every slice of radiance. A hope for a love I knew existed somewhere in my heart but still awaited birth. Only touched by the Savior at the cross; a love incomprehensible, pure intervention for the fallible. Pain’s perfect balance with love boggled me. Until my fiancée explained how Christ loved me. “He loved you with a sword sharp enough to cut shameful lies from truth. What you believed to be isolated pain, you didn’t suffer alone. Every burden of mankind’s psyche was sustained by the One and Only Jesus Christ; to be carried once and releasing you to eternal life as His sacrament forever.” I wouldn’t allow those words to escape the main arteries of my soul. This is how I came to know the man I would marry and the God I would serve.
The perfect diamond would carry dimension for every facet I have lived and every facet my husband would fill. I asked the jeweler, “Does this diamond have any inclusions?” The jeweler responded in perplexity with one eye to the loop, the other eye squinted, “Three white inclusions.” My immediate thought was, “one for the Father, the second for the Son, and the third for the Holy Spirit.” “I’ll wear this one for a lifetime,” my voice hummed with a ring of contentment.
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