I wear a strand of pearls, made long through years of additions to my heart. A husband, three children—two sons and a daughter. Parents and three siblings, a large group. It is complete and beautiful and strong. Then suddenly and shockingly, the string is broken through trauma and heartache.
One bead is eventually lost—never to be added back.
Hard, bitter years. I put the necklace away, a sad reminder of the weight on my heart. Too much to carry alone, others take turns wearing it on my behalf. And I, in mourning, do not add beauty to the black of my clothing.
Then later, I carefully add a treasured pearl given as a gift from my Father. Along with a godly man, his three children—two more sons and a daughter. The even longer strand is whole until precious baby pearls are added. One, then two, then three . . . a grand finish of eleven polished gems.
It is perfect, and lovely; yet hard to bear at times with the intricacies and immensity of loving. Both are a part, both necessary in the knotting of the string keeping each pearl attached.
The strand remains strengthened and whole until an intruder removes three original pearls. Painful searing, specter of death, sudden news—taking father, mother, youngest brother. And somehow, even though the necklace is lighter, it again feels weightier.
I continue to wear it in honor of their lives, living through the days with memories pressing hard upon my heart.
The pearls whisper their secret; these shiny creations produced to deal with debris inside the shells of their host. As a protection against irritants that sneak into soft tissue, layer upon layer of mother-of-pearl is formed as a solid rind around an invader.
I wear the necklace with new understanding—wisdom learned through trial, beauty forged in pain, heartache incased in shining material. Layer upon layer, each intruder meant to destroy is now surrounded by a halo of splendor.
Beautiful, and holy. Valuable beyond cost. A unique testament to grace. A tribute to staying true, for being willing to carry the pain. I wear it in awe.
Until, one day, I lay this strand at His feet.