Every year at the beginning of Advent I ask the Lord to give me a new point of view for the Christmas story, and every year He faithfully answers. In 2023 my fresh perspective came quite literally by accident.

It was the beginning of December and I was getting ready to go somewhere. I was standing next to my side of our king-sized bed, which used to be a waterbed and now has a regular mattress held in place by the headboard and wide upright boards on three sides. I began to put my ring on my finger when suddenly it just slipped right out of my hand. I watched it fall down between the mattress and the board.

And completely disappear into a black hole.

I didn’t see it stuck between the board and the mattress, so I thought it had gone all the way to the carpeted floor. But as I began looking, it was nowhere to be found.

It was just gone.

It really bothers me when anything gets lost — I just become obsessed until it’s found. I was especially obsessed this time because this ring is very special to me. It replaced my wedding ring and I wear it every day. It’s an anniversary ring, a plain gold band with five diamonds, which make me think of the five members of our family.

My husband Richard gave me this ring for my 55th birthday, and even at its sale price it was waaaay more expensive than anything I ever would have bought for myself, especially since we didn’t have much money at the time. He actually saved little by little for four years to buy it for me — just because he loves me and he knew I wanted a special ring.

So while the ring is valuable in terms of money, to me its true value has much more to do with the love behind it. And that can’t be replaced.

The ring is my treasure.

And suddenly my treasure was lost.

Over the next three days, in growing frustration, I searched high and low. I tore my side of the bedroom apart. We looked under the mattress and through the bedding. I ran my fingers through the carpet fibers under where it had fallen. We searched under dressers with a flashlight.

Thinking it had somehow bounced to a higher place, I sorted through laundry. Then I went through the small trash bin next to the bed, carefully pulling everything out piece by piece, even sifting through all the dirt at the bottom where I had emptied the vacuum cleaner. I did this two times just to be sure I hadn’t missed it.

But the ring had apparently disappeared into thin air. It was frustratingly weird and I was desperate to have it back. I prayed and searched for it for three days.

Then I was sure I heard a voice in my mind telling me, “Look on the other side.”

My first fleeting thought was that the Hebrew term for the Other Side is the Sitra Achra. It refers to the realm of darkness and evil.

Then I figured that we were just supposed to look on the other side of the bed. So we looked under the mattress on Richard’s side and went through the bedding there too, although it seemed highly unlikely that it would be there.

Sure enough, no ring.

Finally I began searching at the foot of the bed. And there — beneath laundry I had already sorted through and far from the place where it had fallen — was my ring!

I have no idea how it got there, but I just about cried with relief and joy to have it back at last. What an emotional ordeal!

Later I realized that this was my answer to prayer for a fresh view of Christmas. In Luke 19:10 Jesus says, “For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost.” This seems like an obvious connection and it became a powerful picture for me.

Because what really struck me was the intensity of the emotions I had felt while searching for my little treasure. Surely His emotions while seeking for that which was lost are infinitely greater, for He is Love itself.

For we are His treasures. Our hearts are precious to Him and He loves us with an everlasting love.

It must break His heart to see us so helplessly trapped deep inside the black hole of the Other Side with no hope of breaking free on our own. He must be totally obsessed with wanting to find us and save each one of us. I can imagine Him pacing around in Heaven in complete desperation waiting for the right time to go to earth as a baby — and to begin the painful process of seeking and saving those He loves.

I sifted my fingers through dust at the bottom of a trash bin in search of my treasure. He was more than willing to get His hands dirty and even bloody to get us back too.

And I can just imagine the overwhelming relief and joy He must feel when we are found at last and He holds His treasure in His hands again!