There’s truly no other way I can interpret this event I’m going to tell you about except for the fact that God and His angels must care about us, right down to things I wouldn’t imagine are His concern. And, given the seemingly unfriendly world we live in right now, that’s a story worth telling.
My wife has a prized pair of diamond earrings that she had made from a special ring she inherited from her grandmother. The value of the stones themselves, though significant, is nothing compared to their sentimental value. In that regard, they are irreplaceable. So when she lost one of them the other day, she panicked. This is when I usually get called in because I have the patience of Job when it comes to looking for things. She does not. We figure I must have gotten it from my mother who was close to a reincarnation of St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost things. (“St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come around; something is lost which cannot be found.”) She would simply never give up looking until she found what she was looking for.
Well, after a couple hours of taking the bathroom and the kitchen apart, including thoroughly searching the garbage disposal and two trashcans, even I had decided I had to give up. The next day, I was bringing in some dirty dishes from my office, one of them being a glass of grapefruit juice I had finished up that Marti had started the morning before. (No, there were no bugs in this juice, but I was to find out there was something there.) There was still a tiny bit of juice in the bottom of the glass, and I almost dumped it in the garbage disposal, but I decided I would just throw it in the dishwasher. After all, it’s supposed to have a built-in garbage disposal; might as well use it. So I turned the glass upside down in the upper rack and the little bit of juice left splashed down to the bottom along with a faint clinking sound. I almost passed that off as nothing, but then I remembered, this had started out as Marti’s juice from the morning before. Hmmmm.
Suddenly I had a thought. “Honey, get me the flashlight,” I said as I pulled out the bottom rack to get to the bottom of the dishwasher, and the closer I got to finding the source of the clinking sound, the more I was convinced I knew what it was. Sure enough, wedged down into a crevasse where the door hinges open was the earring.
Now think of all the variables. I could have dumped the remaining juice in the disposal. I could have tossed it off the bridge into the ivy below as I walked to the house from my garage office. (I do that often.) I could have ignored the little clinking sound in the dishwasher which could easily have been a grapefruit seed — any number of things. When a diamond earring is hidden in the bottom of a glass with a half-inch of juice in it and you’re not even thinking about it anymore: What do you think are the chances of finding it? I undoubtedly got some help here, and the only conclusion to that is: it was important to God.
Of all the things on His mind, this would be one of them? Why? Because He cares. And how many times since then have we stopped and marveled about this? What are the chances? Coincidence? Happenstance? Or God taking pleasure in His children? That last one just makes me smile.