I remember our wedding night and how I loved intertwining my fingers with his and feeling the hard tungsten ring on his left hand.
He picked the band out himself, wanting something different with crosses on it. I adore that ring. That ring SAYS SOMETHING about the man I married. It says 'I belong to Jesus.'
When we were first married, Bryon’s ring was too big for him and slipped around on his finger easily. This was uncomfortable, so he took the ring off a lot. He removed it to wash his truck, shower, sleep, garden, or clean the house. Considering how often he does each of those things, his ring sat alone on the countertop a lot. I disliked that spot for the ring, let me tell you.
I think there are a good many people in the world who cannot wear a wedding band because of skin irritation, dangerous manual labor, or some other physical reason – and I take no issue with that. But there are also a good lot of people who don’t wear their wedding band because they just don’t feel like doing it. That makes my hiney crawl, Peeps. Because there are ostriches out there who look at man hands and evaluate the presence of a ring. When you put it on, you’re symbolically married, and stating that to the world. That’s how my hearts views it, at least.
And so months passed with this leaving the ring by the sink thing, we had a few occasions where he left for work without it by accident, and I found it a few times in the laundry basket after falling out of a pocket. Enough of that horsecrap. And so I called up our jeweler and ordered him another ring, a half size smaller. Taking charge, that's just this thing I do, see. And when he put the new, smaller ring on his hand, everything changed, he said.
It’s so comfortable that he can’t even feel it anymore. "I can't imagine not wearing it," he said.
That was about a year ago. And now he wears it to wash his truck, shower, sleep, garden, and clean the house. He does take it off to clean it, or to shower if he’s particularly filthy – but it’s rare to see his hand naked. I love that.
Now I get to stare at it (and take pictures of it) anytime I want.
The other night we were driving home from work. He was telling me that he had to clean his ring soon because it was full of sediment and material from cleaning our braze oven at work. I reminisced about the days when he didn’t wear his ring to do things like clean the braze oven and he said something that stopped me.
“Well, I don’t ever want something to happen to me in that oven and me not have my ring on.”
Well, I don’t ever want something to happen in that oven period – but to know that my husband wanted to be wearing his ring if something scary happened? That was pretty awesome right there.
I love him. And his Jesus ring.