Breathe

Every now and then, someone gives the perfect gift. Something meaningful. Something delightful. Something unexpected.

Something so perfectly suited to the receiver that it’s near impossible to put its awesomeness into words.

I got one of those gifts this Christmas. Something meaningful. Something delightful. Something unexpected.

Something so perfectly suited to me that it was near impossible to put its awesomeness into words.

So instead, I put it on. Wore it constantly. Fingered it lovingly. Glanced down at it joyfully. Slid it back and forth contentedly along its bumpy metallic chain. Enjoyed deeply its personalized kitschy awesomeness.

For three days.

Until I lost it.

Either in the Denver International Airport or somewhere near seat 27C on Flight 773.

Lost. It. Absolutely. Thoroughly. Indubitably. Tragically.

Kerthunk-went-my-heart. Over and over and over again.

That kerthunk is an achy thing indeed. Takes over your insides. Sends you into a frantic state of frenzy. Messes with your breathing. Undercuts your contented self.

So at 2:30 a.m. a few days post Christmas – after glancing in the airport restroom mirror while washing my hands and seeing a bare, broken chain slowly swinging back and forth, back and forth from where it dangled around my neck – I plunged into panic-frenzy-frantic mode and started walk-searching the entire A concourse. Up and down, up and down. Over and over and over again. Back and forth, back and forth. Every corner. Every tile. Every carpeted aisle. Every moving walkway. Every stair. Everywhere.

I begged the crew to reboard the plane of Flight 773 and search seat 27C (and also mayhap all the other seats, and the aisles, and the underseats, and the restrooms, and the galleys, and maybe even the cockpit) in search of a Scrabble-tile-sized pendant encasing a teeny-tiny “C” within its soldered glass.

Which they did.

Unsuccessfully.

While I kept walking.

Without ever finding.

Which was really just too sad for words.

The search to replace that little “C” expended more emotional energy (and actual time) over the new few weeks than was perhaps warranted.

But I loved it. And missed it. And wanted it to be hanging from around my neck where it belonged.

So today when a long-awaited replacement – made by the original artisan – arrived in a teeny-tiny package from way down South, well, it was a very happy day indeed.

Because what was lost is now found. Remade actually. Into a new thing altogether. Straight from its creator’s hands.

And where was once an empty chain, there is now a new letter “C.”

Safely home at last.

I – who have so keenly felt the kerthunked-heart sorrow of a lost little pendant that I did not make and that had been mine for only a few short days – will never doubt the Almighty’s kerthunked-heart sorrow for lost little me. Or His infinite love. Or his unceasing search. Or his miraculous remaking into a new thing altogether. Straight from my Creator’s hands.

And where was once an empty soul, there is now a new forgiven me.

Safely home at last.

[This moment of breathtaking (and undeserved love) brought to you by the little letter “C.”]