Okay, so when I was a little punk..... probably around 7 or 9, me and my sister had to go for visitations with my dad every other weekend. On one of these trips, my dad took us to the Forks, which is one of the most unique and noteworthy locations in winnipeg, where lots of merchants of unique stuff have booths in a very old fashioned market type environment, and since it's on the river, it's got a cool amphitheatre, park, docks, ferry rides, restaurants, cafes..... it's a cool spot.

We went shopping, and bought some stuff from a vendor of sterling silver jewelry. My dad bought me some silver and turquoise unicorn earrings, something for Chifunda that I can't remember, and for himself, a ring with a turquoise stone, which he wore on his pinky finger ever since.

That is, until a couple years ago, when he pulled it off his finger, and gave it to me. After years of working with engines and gun parts, the ring had been worn down until the grooves that came away from the stone had almost disappeared. It was a little bent, and the stone wasn't even the original. The original had broken and fallen out, so my dad had carved a replacement and reset it.

He gave it to me at a time when our relationship was being restored, when we were really close, and I wore the ring proudly because it was symbolic to me of our reconciliation. Not only that, but it was a cool ring, it suited me, and I wore it on my index finger. It was my only piece of jewelry at the time.

Sometime during this past winter, I took it off to do some cleaning at work, and haven't seen it since. I searched high and low. I searched my car repeatedly. I searched our "office" at work, I searched my friend's apartment, my bedroom, my friends' cars. I prayed and begged and pleaded and searched again..... and eventually gave up. Every time I looked at that naked index finger I was filled with sorrow.... but alas..... it's only a ring. Only a round piece of metal, and whether I happen to be wearing it doesn't really have anything to do with anything.

So I go to Regina and say "I lost that ring" and Chimwemwe mourns with me and then tells me this ridiculous miraculous story of how she prayed that she could find a lost watch that should have been gone forever, but turned up buckled around some random stair railing..... and says "did you ask God to help you find it" and I say "of course I did." but in my mind I'm thinking "God doesn't do stuff like that for me."

But I'm a retard, and God's showing me in little ways how I've limited His work in my life through my attitudes and misconceptions. He wants to be let out of this box.

I understood that the moment I reached under my car seat in search of some slurpee change, and pulled out my dad's ring!!

HOOOOOOOOOOO-LEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I said, and quickly slipped it on my finger before any evil could befall it. What impeccable timing. What a precious display of affection. How many times had I cleaned the inside of that car?? How many times had my fingers searched for all sorts of things in those impossible nooks and crannies underneath those bucket seats?

But this time there was the ring..... the one ring..... the precious.....

Chimwemwe said something funny on msn today (I miss her so much) she said "War against God. You'll win." Possibly the worst advice I've ever heard but obviously it wasn't intended as such.

Today I asked the two-year-old I live with when she was acting silly if she was having an epileptic seizure, to which she responded, "yes."

it was funny. wish you were there, cuz you would have laughed.