The Wedding Rings

Laura Booz: The other day our ten-passenger van was downtown and pulled into a parking spot right in front of the jewelry store.

Now, this was on a one-way street, so you have to imagine this with me. We were on the left, and to keep the kids from barreling into traffic by exiting through the van’s only sliding door on the right, I ushered them up into the driver’s seat and out through the driver’s door and on to the sidewalk. 

I zippered their little coats and straightened their hair. I paid the parking meter. And I leaned down and made eye contact with each of those children, those curious, spunky, precious little children, and I told them everything they’d need to know about going into the jewelry store. Including this, “Listen, I know it’s going to be tempting, but please refrain from licking the glass countertops.”

The kids nodded and bounced up and down and pulled my hand toward the front door. But I just had to pause a moment and look up at the sign, because I hadn’t been in this shop for twenty years. 

Hi there, you’re listening to Expect Something Beautifulwith Laura Booz. 

The last time I was with my fiancé, picking up our wedding bands in preparation for our mid-summer wedding. We were so young back then . . . and so different. We drove a much smaller car. We walked at our leisure holding hands. Back in those days, my sparkling engagement ring and my gold wedding band slid right onto my finger. Sometimes, they were even a bit loose. 

I remember spinning them around and around, slipping up and down over my knuckle, settling them back into place. 

Things began to change as Ryan and I welcomed each of our children into our family. My joys grew by the day. My gratitude grew by the day. My list of lessons learned the hard way grew by the day. My laundry pile grew, my grocery bill grew, my feet grew, even my knuckles grew. 

That’s right, with each pregnancy, and there were seven of them, my knuckles grew a little bit larger. Eventually, my engagement ring and my wedding band would not fit over my knuckle. Not on a cold day, not with lotion, not after exercising, or drinking lemon water; they would not fit. 

Finally, I resolved myself, my knuckles were too large and my rings were too small. I tucked those rings in my jewelry box and moved on. 

When people asked about my bare ring finger, I’d shake my head and joke about my chubby knuckles. But deep inside I looked forward to the day, maybe after I was finished bearing children, nursing babies, maybe after my body rested for a bit, my knuckles would return to their original size. 

I waited and waited, years passed. We celebrated our twentieth wedding anniversary. Our youngest child turned four. And still, my wedding rings didn’t fit. 

Then one day, not too long ago, I woke up and thought about how for the past twenty years I had watched God care for my husband and for me and for our marriage. I had watched Him sustain us through those early days when our marriage felt fresh and sparkly, but also difficult. When we jostled around quite a bit, trying to figure out the purpose and the parameters of what God intended when He joined us in holy matrimony.

I had watched God answer impossible prayers for us and address serious issues in us. 

Over the years, I had watched Him renew us when our vows felt too big and lofty. I had watched Him sustain us when our vows felt too confining, too constraining. I had watched Him hold us together when we wondered if maybe marriage just didn’t fit us anymore. 

I had watched Him surround us with the grace we needed, when we needed it, over and over again, as if it were a band of ever-expanding gold. 

God didn’t give us the gift of marriage so that we would shrink back. He didn’t want it to cause us to shrink back in our faith, or for the years to whittle away at our commitment to one another. He didn’t want our relationship to atrophy. He didn’t want our character to grow stagnant. 

Instead, His plan is that marriage would cause us to grow. That the years of us living alongside one another, serving one another, of pursuing each other, enjoying one another. Those years of being honest with each other, forgiving one another, upholding each other. 

The years of suffering and rejoicing together would be a means of spurring us on to know Christ. And in knowing Christ, to become abundant fruitful people, just bursting at the seams with evidence of His good work in our lives. 

I didn’t want to wait any longer. I didn’t want to pine for the old days. I didn’t want to wish for things as they used to be. After all, enduring maturing love is different from fresh young love. Both are precious, both are God’s gifts, but they are different. 

I wanted to wear my wedding rings. I wanted to wear them for what they meant twenty years ago, and what they mean twenty years later. And so, I submitted an order for the jeweler to expand them. I had received a call that the rings were ready, and that’s why the kids and I were bouncing towards the front door. 

I held the door open with my glorious chubby knuckles. The children filed into the store in front of me, and I followed on my strong size 9 feet. I walked up to the counter, the jeweler went to back room and brought out an envelope with my name on it. 

I held out my hand, she carefully tilted the envelope and the rings landed in my palm. They were smooth and heavy and shiny. I thought they looked lovelier than ever before. Maybe, because they had grown, and I had too. 

As I cautiously slid them onto my finger, something in me worried, “They won’t fit. I know they won’t fit. I’ve changed too much. It’s been too long.” But the jeweler had done good work. They fit perfectly. And I thanked God for the man who gave them to me in the first place.

You’ve been listening to Expect Something Beautiful with Laura Booz.

Expect Something Beautiful is a production of Revive Our Hearts calling women to freedom, fullness, and fruitfulness in Christ.