The Pearls of Great Price

pearls

He gently took my hand and led me. “Down these stairs… there’s something I want to show you… a special place … very special to me. I’ve been saving something for you … over many, many years.”

How romantic! It was so like him to shower me with tokens of his love. Yet I sensed in my heart that this was to be a very singular surprise for he seemed far too solemn.

We paused at the big oak door as he pulled out a key from a hidden pocket near to his heart. “Close your eyes, now,” he whispered.

The heavy door creaked open. He ushered me through the portal, one strong arm around me, and my hand in his. Oh, what a familiar feeling it was! So many times he had gently guided my steps when I couldn’t see – through raging storms and blinding snows and shadowy, fearsome forests. But he was always so able to lead me safely.   I felt secure in his arms.

“This … this is a very special storage area …” he repeated even more emphatically.

My guess was that we were descending into a wine cellar. But I quickly dismissed that thought remembering that he had already shown me his vast supply of vintage: row after row of bottles filled with the choicest wines. My lips had often savored with him the fruit of his vineyard. “My cup runneth over.”

We took a few steps inward. “Here we are …” he said. “Now, open your eyes!”

Was this a wine cellar? I was bedazzled by the bright sight before me. To my surprise and delight, there again, were rows and rows of bottles. But these bottles clearly did not keep wine.

There were shelves and shelves of bottles. Oh, they were too pretty and unusually shaped to be simply called bottles. Decanters filled this room – their amber-tinged glass adding a golden hue to the dazzling atmosphere: for shimmering through the flasks were myriad numbers of iridescent pearls!

“They look like pearls!” I gasped. “Are they pearls inside?”

My husband was beaming. He delighted in my delight! I marveled at the beauty locked up here in this secret place.

“But why are they here? Hidden away? I asked. “And just how many oysters did it take to make all these pearls?” I added teasingly.

“Not a one. No oysters involved.”

“You mean these beauties are artificial?”

“Oh, no! These are the purest, finest, most genuine pearls in all my kingdom. They are truly pearls of great price.”

“So where did they come from?”

“They’re yours.”

“Yes. Yes. Thank you! I love them … they’re gorgeous! But wherever did you find them?”

“You don’t yet understand, my dear,” he smiled. “I mean the pearls are yours! You made them!”

His bride looked perplexed.

He continued. “I will explain. Each and every one of these precious pearls is a precious tear that you shed … while with me in the garden. Remember that I told you how I cherished your tears? That I even put them in a bottle? I meant it, my love.”

He tenderly wiped a tear of joy from her eye. “Yes, even your tears of joy, I’ve saved. These are all your tears transformed. Your precious tears … now transformed into priceless pearls.”

Amazing! I was awed by this most thoughtful expression of my beloved’s love and care: to think he really had put each one of my tears in a bottle!

We stood silently together, hands clasped, for one of our endless moments, in this memorial he had built. It was a memorial built to and from tears: tears shed and hearts broken over prodigal sons. Now the sons had returned and there was only feasting. But we would never forget the hours we had shared in the garden weeping together. We would forget the pain, but not the closeness. Our mourning had truly transformed into joy and by some wondrous miracle – the torrent of our tears into cascades of pearls!

The lover of my soul turned me to face him. He held out a strand of pearls and then ever, ever so tenderly he placed it around my neck.

© 1995 HIM/CAVenable

Psalm 56:8; Psalm 126:5; Jer 31:13; Matt 13:45-46

Please read my book on AMAZON, “Joy is a Jewel” or go here to learn about it.

One comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s