I like Christmas. I’m not even going to beat around the bush. I love Christmas. Since I was a very small girl, I’ve always been spoiled immensely by my entire family over Christmas. Sure, as I’ve grown up, I’ve learnt that Christmas is definitely not about the gifts under the tree. It’s not about ripping through the paper in a haze of excitement. It’s not even about “celebrating Jesus’ birth”, as Jesus wasn’t born in December (apparently). It’s about family and that special sticky glue that binds us together. Love. Fellowship. Being thankful.
Having said that, I remember a Christmas a few years back where Adam went through great lengths to disguise the box which my gift came in, and when I started opening this elusive treasure, I nearly passed out I was so excited. A Carrol Boyes recipe book stand for my kitchen. The man knows me so well.
Then we had kids, and Christmas took on a whole new meaning altogether. No longer was it about what we wanted to give one another, but we could barely wait to give Eli’s 133 gifts to him and it was our Tori’s first Christmas too. It also helped that this past Christmas was the first year Eli was really excited about Christmas. We were even more excited for him. To see the look on his face as he opened his first gift was priceless. And then he got so stuck on that first gift – something which he had wanted for such a long time – that he showed little to no interest in his other gifts. Kids. We, the sulky parents, kept some gifts aside for him to open on Boxing Day and went to bed mumbling, consoling one another, “He was just overwhelmed and tired”.
And then there were my gifts. Once again, I was spoiled so much. Like when I was a little girl. Adam pulled out every single stop, and he outdid me at Christmas. I felt like crying, while he simply said I deserved to be spoiled. In short, he “out-Maryke’d Maryke”. One particular gift from my husband really stood out above the rest – a beautiful pair of vintage-looking earrings. They are so me. They are exquisite, the shine they cast reflecting and bouncing across the room and I couldn’t stop looking at them. The man knows me so well.
Of course I wore my new earrings to our Christmas lunch, which my mom had booked months in advance for us. We decided to go for a buffet lunch instead of slaving in front of the stove for days. I made a delicious roast beef on Christmas Eve, so this was just an extension of our feast.
And then life happened. The Grinch stole Christmas…in my heart.
The lunch booking was an absolute disaster. Not only did the restaurant decide to put an almost 100% mark-up on the buffet, but the food looked atrocious. Far from the feast I has imagined, I could feel my heart sinking in my shoes. This was not the Christmas I had in mind. My bottom lip started trembling. Adam and I then decided to walk around the mall to see if any other restaurants were open. We were hopeful, and “lucky”. What we found was an open McDonalds, Chicken Licken and Cape Town Fish Market. Oh, the options! We phoned my parents (who were still sitting at the buffet restaurant, waiting for some news from us) and we asked if Cape Town Fish Market wasn’t perhaps a better option. Sure, it sucked, but we were desperately trying to make the best out of a really sucky situation.
We’re all finally sitting at a table at Cape Town Fish Market, when I try to console myself by touching my gorgeous earrings, a reminder of how special I was feeling that morning. And one is missing. I can only feel one earring and I can literally feel the panic rising up in me. Adam looks at me and asks, “What’s the matter” and I can only manage tears. What a horrible Christmas indeed.
So my dad and I decide to retrace my steps in hope that we might find The Missing Earring. We walk around the mall a few times, I’m wiping the tears away angrily, cursing under my breath how unfair life is and how this was the worst Christmas I had ever had. And that didn’t help me to find The Missing Earring, either.
Back at the table, the mood is sombre. We order our food begrudgingly (sushi doesn’t exactly scream “Christmas”) and Adam decides to do some of his own Sherlock Holmes-ing. He stays away and then he stays away some more. Then he’s back. His pokerface giving me zero hope – ah well, kudos to him for trying.
And then he dangles it in front of my face.
Christmas redeemed and my heart feeling a 100 times better. My husband saved Christmas. I immediately tuck both earrings in my purse and vow to put some proper butterflies on them lest one should ever leave me again.
Fast forward about a month down the line. Adam and I decide to go and watch a very late movie, which means both kids would be asleep and my parents would only have to listen for a cry here and there, but they generally sleep right through. Adam and I sneak back into the house at about 1am and it’s dark and quiet. We get undressed and into our pyjamas by the romantic light that is the cell phone hue as to not wake anybody up. I take The Beloved Earrings off and place them on the dressing table and get into bed.
The following day, around noon, Adam tells me, “You know only one of your earrings are on the dressing table?” Impossible. I know for a fact that I had made a point of placing both earrings on the dressing table. Together. I rush to where I know I put them. And lo and behold, the same bloody earring is missing. I am absolutely devastated, but also very cross because I know for a fact that I had taken extra special measures to ensure that I keep both earrings together.
Enter prime suspect number one.
“Eli, did you take one of mommy’s earrings?”
“Yes.”
And that’s that. He runs away without an explanation. All of us gently try and coax little bits of information out of him, which only leads us on a wild witch hunt and my mother turning out her cutlery drawer in the kitchen. Nada.
I try to go for a run that afternoon, but my heart is feeling so incredibly heavy. I barely manage 1km when I stand next to the side of the road and sob into Adam’s chest. Why did this have to happen again? What was the purpose of this? Why is God punishing me? Sure, it was only an earring, but after it was found on Christmas, its value increased by at least three zeros.
Two more weeks go by and I have almost forgotten about The Missing Earring again. Adam I went to the jeweller where he purchased it initially, and unfortunately we are unable to order just one other earring, but “what about turning the remaining earring into a necklace?” Next please.
It’s Valentine’s Day and Adam and I prepare for a 10km Valentine’s Night Race – my first 10km since the birth of Tori and something awesome to do together. We scurry to get enough safety pins together between the two of us to pin our numbers to the front of our shirts. Adam says he knows where there might be some more.
“Babe, where is your earring?” he asks.
“You mean the remaining one? It’s here, in my jewellery box.”
And then he dangles it in front of my face.
Valentine’s Day redeemed, even though it wasn’t even bad to start off with. Eli (yes, I still think he did it) placed (hid) one of my earrings in the shaving bag Adam uses to put all his running odds and ends in. That would have been the last place I would have ever looked.
Needless to say, I haven’t been overly keen to wear my (now) R5 million earrings too often. What if I was to lose one again? Surely my heart won’t be able to handle another case of lost and found…
And that brings me to my final point. No matter how we get beaten around in life – or how lost we feel, how far we stray from God – we are never really lost. God knows where we are in our lives, and he will leave thousands behind to come and find one lost sheep. He says so in his word (Matthew 18v11-13 - "For the Son of Man has come to save that which was lost. What do you think? If any man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go and search for the one that is straying? If it turns out that he finds it, truly I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine which have not gone astray.”)
Just like that one earring is of immeasurable value to me, even more than the complete set, we are of immeasurable value to God. He will not relent till we are safe and sound and back where we belong. With Him.
I once was lost, but now I’m found.
Amazing Grace.
