Although I loved the honeymoon gift, deep down I looked forward to the fulfillment of David’s promise.

Whenever David saw my bracelet, he remembered his promise and reassured me that he would keep it.

Through the years we continued to look in jewelry store windows as if we were searching for the Holy Grail. We andered into countless shops, and I became discouraged when I realized that the cost of fulfilling David’s promise was well beyond our means. I wavered in my belief that I would own what David desired to give me. David, however, never lost faith.

Now we were in the mall during the last week before Christmas to buy gifts for other people. Finances were tight; we had agreed not to exchange gifts between ourselves. We had just completed a most stressful year during which David had been diagnosed with a terminal, neurological disorder

followed by his being dismissed from work due to poor performance. Because of no insurance, we had to pay for all of David’s medication and expensive tests. Our financial situation grew desperate.

Worse than the financial stress was the
ongoing grief of losing my best friend in
bits and pieces. The forgetfulness, irrational anger that exploded unbidden, indecipherable handwriting, and personality changes took their toll on both of us. In fact, sometimes I even envied wives who had lost their husbands in automobile accidents or through fastmoving cancers. I erected barriers around my heart to steel myself against the inevitable loss. Then, just when I persuaded myself that the neurological
changes in David had become permanent, he’d have a good day and come close to being his old self. I’d fall in love with him all over again, only to watch him slip away. The grief that washed over me often

brought me to my knees to cry out my anguish to the Shepherd.

That day in the mall I looked up from the display case into David’s eyes and saw love shining even brighter than the emeralds. I could tell that in his mind nothing less than this bracelet would satisfy his honeymoon promise. I also knew there was no way we could afford it. I tried to tell him no, but the words died on my lips. He’d had so many disappointments this year.

As the store clerk lifted the bracelet out of the case and reached around my wrist to close its intricate clasp, I prayed it would be too small. That would be the easiest way of refusing the bracelet since the unpaid bills, and the promise of more to come, had placed a vise around our checkbook. But God had other plans that day. The bracelet fit perfectly.

I glanced at David and saw his radiant smile burst forth. This man, I thought, is the victim of

one of the cruelest diseases known to man. He faces a sentence with only one verdict—an untimely death. My eyes brimmed over with tears as I realized anew we would not live out our dream of growing old together.

To David, this is not just a piece of jewelry. This is his love displayed on my arm for the entire world to see. To him, a promise made is a promise kept. He might not have many more months or years to keep his promise. Somehow I have to juggle the bills to let him have the honor of keeping it.

The clerk reached for my arm to remove the bracelet. I could not believe it had worked its way into my heart so quickly. “How much is it?” I finally asked. Slowly, he turned over the little white tag which read $250.00.

The clerk began to extol the bracelet’s virtues pointing out the 180 emerald chips in a handmade Brazilian setting. It might as well have been $2,500.00 given our meager budget. Knowing that

On the way into the house I grabbed the mail. Amidst the usual bills were two Christmas cards. The first, from a church where I had sung several times that year, contained a thank-you note for my music ministry along with an amazing gift— a check for $200.00! I then opened the second card, and out fell two bills: a twenty and a five. The card was simply signed, “A friend in Christ.”

Even as we shopped in the mall, the payment for David’s promise had been in the mailbox. The Shepherd had already taken care of every detail. The pastor of a small church, coupled with an unknown friend, had listened to the Shepherd as they decided their holiday giving. Only because of the Shepherd had we stopped at that shop on that day to find that specific bracelet. The promise David had spoken on our honeymoon had been fulfilled.

Waiting for someone to die is a unique grief that