One summer, when I was working for the bank, a coworker was noticeably absent for a couple of days. Of course, I was concerned for her and was happy to see her when she returned. When she walked into work that Wednesday morning, she was visibly distraught and obviously upset. Alice was a woman in her early fifties. Her husband of twenty-five years had passed away the previous summer. She was a kind, gentle woman who had loved her husband with all her heart. She provided support and encouragement throughout his illness and was devastated by his passing.

We worked for a few hours getting through our morning routine before we had a chance to take a break and talk. As the two of us sat perched on our stools behind the teller counter, I was surprised how easily she opened up to me when I asked how she was doing. She told me about her weekend and how she and her friend had decided to take a day trip to the beach. The two of them made the three-hour drive to the coast, had lunch at a charming restaurant overlooking the ocean, and then went for a peaceful stroll on the beach. As they were walking Alice realized she hadn’t taken off her watch. Concerned she might get sand or water in it, so she slipped it off her wrist and put it in her pocket. They continued their walk and enjoyed a beautiful summer sunset before heading back to the car. When they got to the car, Alice realized her watch was not in her pocket. It must have dropped out of her pocket somewhere along the beach.

As Alice described the watch to me, her eyes welled up with tears. The watch was a special gift given to her by her late husband, just as his illness was taking hold of him. It had been designed by him and had been handmade, especially for her. She described how and when he had given it to her and how he had designed it. With tears in her eyes, she described every tiny detail of her beloved watch. She told me it was not the monetary value, but the sentimental value of the watch that made it so difficult to lose. She said she felt as if she were losing him all over again.

Not knowing what I could possibly do to ease her obvious pain, I asked her what she had done to find it. Of course, she had retraced her steps from the car to the beach and back again. She had checked, and double-checked, her pockets and had searched her vehicle. I then said, “Do you feel like you have done everything in your power to find it?” She looked at me, confused by my response. She paused for a moment, deep in thought. “Well, I’m not sure,” she said. “I guess I could run an ad in the local paper or something. But other than that, yes I’ve done all I can do to find the watch.” That afternoon, on her lunch break, Alice placed an ad in the local paper where the watch had was lost.

We talked again that afternoon, and I asked her, “Now do you feel like you have done everything in your power to find the watch?” Her answer was firm this time. “Yes,” she said, “I have done everything I can think of.” I told her if she had done her absolute best, it was time to let it go. She pondered my comment for a few moments, and nothing more was said. Already I was seeing a less grief-stricken coworker.

She could have put the watch in a glass case or locked it away in a safe deposit box, but that was not what her husband had intended her to do with his gift.   He wanted her to show it off and be proud of it.   He wanted her to wear it, and enjoy it, maybe for a lifetime or perhaps for a season. Nothing could take away the joy and the love her husband had given to her. The watch, as beautiful as it was, was only a symbol of a much bigger gift, his love and adoration. She could never lose his love for her. That gift was safely locked away in her heart.

The next week, on my day off, I received a phone call from Alice. She was so excited. A young man had found her watch on the beach the day she had lost it. The young man’s mother described it as a beautiful watch that was so unique someone must be very sad to have lost it. She encouraged her son to check the newspaper’s lost and found section in hopes of finding the owner. There he found Alice’s ad that described the watch and the location where it was lost. After a brief telephone call to Alice, the boy and his mother brought the watch to their local branch of our bank, and the bank then forwarded the watch to our office. Alice, in turn, sent the boy a check as a reward for his honesty.

I wish I could say when we do our best there’s always a happy ending. Life doesn’t always work out that way. But if we do our best, God will bless us. We will find comfort and peace in knowing we’ve done all we can do.   The same applies to us as Christians. If we know God has asked us to do something, we need to do it. We need to do our best and let God take care of the rest.

Deuteronomy 28:1 says, “If you fully obey the Lord your God and carefully follow all his commands I give you today, the Lord your God will set you high above all the nations on earth.”

Just as Alice’s watch was a beautiful symbol of her husband’s love and adoration for her, our obedience to God is our way of showing him our love and adoration for Him.

Wishing you joy and peace,

Lorrie