Here is the hidden piece in my small decoration.
The Ring:
"I want a simple, silver band." I said to my mom as we peered through the glass windows of a jewelry store.
"No hearts, no crosses, no 'True Love Waits' phrases... just a ring."
My twelve year old heart cherished the silver band on my left ring finger. This was a symbol of my new vow of purity to the Lord and to my future husband.
This ring represented...
Self control.
Beauty.
Innocence.
Commitment.
Joy.
Contentedness.
Love.
I bought the small wooden box just after I was given the silver ring. The box was meant to hold my ring once I was no longer going to wear this piece of jewelry.
I vowed I would never allow the ring to leave my hand until it was replaced with another ring. One that meant I was engaged.
I kept that vow...
...and the ring is now placed in the box.
I know it seems silly, but this was a huge decision for me.
When I became engaged, I lovingly placed the purity ring inside my little wooden box. I figured the only time I would ever take it out again would be to show my possible future daughter the commitment I had made when I was her age.
Once my engagement ended, I opened the box and placed the ring back on my naked ring finger.
What else was I to do? I had worn that ring for ten years. I was loyal to my vow. Even though I was unable to make a vow to the man I thought would be my husband, I knew I could continue to keep this one.
But as the days and weeks and months went by, that ring just did not gleam like it used to.
The silver looked ugly and worn to me.
Honestly, I felt like a failure for wearing it. What was once an innocent and beautiful vow made to the Lord turned into something confusing, wrong, and used.
Interestingly enough, over the course of those ten years before my engagement hardly anyone mentioned my ring. I maybe had a few conversations about its meaning, but most of the time they were always with friends that I knew well.
But the few months I wore the ring after my broken engagement many people I did not even know asked me about it.
"Are you married?"
"Why the silver band?"
"Does your ring symbolize anything?"
I found myself explaining the ring more within those few months than within the ten year period. Each conversation ended with me saying something like,
"Honestly... I don't really know why I still have it on." Then I quickly tried to change the subject.
Finally, I questioned my reasons for putting the ring back on my finger. I found that my conversations with these friends and strangers resulted in me feeling that I was likely doomed to keep this ring on forever. That it was punishment for not being good enough for the diamond. That I should have never taken the ring off in the first place.
This ring now represented...
Anger.
Bitterness.
Loneliness.
Brokenness.
Punishment.
Emptiness.
Grief.
I honestly believe God prompted these people to ask me about my ring. This was all a part of His plan to heal my heart along the way. It was as if I could hear Him saying,
"Breana... take the ring off."
I was struggling to hold onto a life that no longer existed. I was clutching onto dreams that I refused to sacrifice to a God who had much better plans for my broken heart. While I believed the Lord had me wear that ring for a time, He was now calling me to take the ring off.
I'm not saying that it's wrong for anyone to wear a purity ring. If you are convicted to wear one... wear one. If you aren't, then don't.
Whatever choice causes you to fall in love with God even more is what you should do... because that is all that matters.
In a funny way, I think He wants my bare finger to speak His name to the world.
I am His and His alone. I am not bound by a commitment to anyone or myself. I am bound only to Him.
I think that's how He uses us anyway. He chooses the broken, the small, the wounded, the naked, the weak for His glory.
So I took the ring off.
That's why it's sitting on my lace laden piano.
My sacrifice of praise.
...It doesn't seem like a small piece of decoration anymore.
