With all the media attention on the LDS faith, I have been asked by several readers to write my thoughts about the sacred garment that endowed church members wear. I’m not going to do that, but some of my thoughts below are analogous. If you understand wedding rings, you can understand the garment.
A few years ago, one of the cottonwood trees in our backyard died. In the tradition of “manly men,” I decided that we could remove it ourselves. It was a family affair – everyone helped cut down the smaller branches with clippers and saws, until it was time to break out the power: My chainsaw.
I had everyone stand clear as I fired it up and began to take down the big stuff. As I was cutting through one of the larger branches, a smaller branch broke loose and was coming right at my face.
I did the unthinkable: I took my left hand off the saw to shield my face. Without the pressure of my left hand, the saw kicked – right towards my face. But it didn’t hit my face because my hand was already there. I watched, in seeming slow motion, as the saw cut through my glove and into my hand. Then the chainsaw stopped.
I dropped the saw to the ground and calmly called to my wife, “Sweetheart, I think we have a problem.” She walked over to see what had happened. We were relieved to see that my fingers were all still attached, but the wound was nasty. Then it started to bleed. A lot.
She ran into the house and grabbed a dishtowel which we wrapped tightly around my hand to slow the bleeding, but it dripped a trail of blood as we hurried to the car. She took me to the nearest urgent care.
Two doctors attended to me quickly. They unwrapped my hand and were also relieved to see that my fingers were still intact, but the injury was going to take some cleaning and stitching. As they rinsed the wound, they commented about how lucky I was that my fingers had not been severed.
Upon closer examination, it became obvious as to what had happened. The saw cut halfway through my pinky, and had started to cut through my ring finger before it stopped. The saw blade had hit my wedding ring, causing the chain to kick back a tiny bit – just enough to spare my fingers.
As the bleeding subsided, I was taken for x-rays. The chain had actually cut halfway through the bone of my little finger, but the bone had not snapped. All that was left was to stitch me up and send me home.
The skin above my ring was chewed up enough that the doctors said they would need to cut my ring off before they could stitch me up. I refused. I told them that they were not cutting my ring off. They were incredulous – and I was ridiculous. In retrospect, I think I was probably in shock. My EC encouraged me to cut the ring, but I refused. Instead, I tucked the edges of the laceration under the ring, and then wiggled the ring up my finger. Repeating this tortuous procedure several times, I was able to get the ring off.
Everyone in the room was pretty grossed out by now, and my wife was trying not to throw up. By then I was feeling nauseous and in need of painkillers. They numbed me up, stitched me up, and sent me on my way…
…with my un-cut wedding band in my pocket.
Why would I share this story? Because it is gross, and manly, but mostly to let you know that I value my wedding band.
When I married my sweet wife 26 years ago, it was the best day of my life. On that day, a new family was created – an eternal family. In order for that to happen, we had our marriage solemnized in the right place, by the proper authority. We chose to be married in a holy temple, by the authority of God’s priesthood.
I wear my ring to remind me of my marriage covenants.
To me, my ring is a constant reminder of those covenants I made with my wife.
To me, my ring is a constant reminder of those covenants I made with God.
To me, my ring is a constant reminder of who I am – part of an eternal partnership.
I wear my ring for protection.
Not necessarily from chainsaws. A wedding ring can also protect me from appearing to the world around me to be something I am not. In this case: Available.
My wedding ring can protect me from myself. It can serve as a “fail-safe” reminder. Should I permit myself fall into certain temptations, succumbing could only be realized by taking my ring off – literally or figuratively.
Even though my ring did save my fingers, I make no claims that it is magic. But I do know that I was protected because I was wearing it. More importantly, and more simply, it reminds me of the most important parts of my life.
And so, I will respect it, and wear it, for the rest of my life.
Here
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Thanks for sharing such a beautiful story of you commitment to your sweetheart! My EC is in Heaven, preparing our mansion! called to heaven at age 37, All you reader hold on the things you love most, you never know when the Lord will rewrite you story
Thank you Lynn. I would love to correspond with you. If you want, email me at middelagedmormonman@gmail.com, or find me on Facebook.
I loved this post! I think you got a lot of Manly points with this one! I think it is wonderful how you were able to take something that appears so strange to an outsider and teach a little about it by using an object that nearly everyone can identify with.
So, if you buried your magical ring would it sprout up and grow a beanstalk that took you right up to heaven like the Tower Babel was meant to do? That would be super duper cool.
On a more serious note, great story. Manly and gross and great.
Ever wonder why Heavenly Father spared your fingers? Maybe it was so you could write this blog and uplift everyone who comes across it. …Just a thought. 🙂
Incredibly beautiful analogy! I had an interesting conversation with a friend the other day about garments. I was interested in her comments that she doesn’t like wearing her garments, she looks for any excuse to swim or exercise to she can take them off. I however am in the opposite camp and the moment I put my garments on I felt like I’d come “home”. So I had a hard time understanding where she was coming from. Perhaps something you could look into discussing sometime in the future.
That was an incredible story, made more amazing because it is true. The similarity to what you were asked to comment on was beautifully illustrated. Thank you for sharing your story, even with all the blood and bones and gore. You made your point extremely well!
Lovely, MMM. Thank you for sharing this great analogy! 🙂
Ok…did you change your header? I now see a satellite dish on the handcart. 🙂
You are the observant one! I did add a satellite dish to the handcart.
(Sshhh. Nobody tell lilyrose that it was in March)
Great story-great analogy! But I didn’t like the gory details…blood and bones-yuck.
Hmm.
That is my dad’s wedding ring.
My parents were married 26 years ago.
We’ve never had any cottonwood trees.
Guess I’m not FOML#1…
(And, I like this analogy.)
Amazing analogy! I too plan to borrow it in the future and hopefully I’ll remember to give you the credit. 🙂
Great analogy, but what about the details? How many HP on the chainsaw? What was the size of the tree? Did you eventually get the tree down? Do you have some spare firewood? Just kidding (mostly).
I figured out when I ordered a high school graduation ring that I HATE wearning rings. They really bother me, but I always wear my wedding ring and the irritation (and even minor pain sometimes) are a small sacrifice to remind me of how lucky I am.
This is the perfect analogy! Thank you so much for sharing this. I have neighbors who like to ask questions about our faith, I’ll have to remember this one for the inevitable day that they ask about garments.
Great post!
What a touching analogy . . . beautiful . . .
Wow! Amazing story and analogy!
That is beautiful. What a perfect analogy!! Thank you. JWW
I admire your determination and dedication. As a jeweler, though, I would have told you that cutting the ring off your finger would have been an excellent option to choose as well. After getting dinged-up and scratched a bit, I could have taken gold frommy reserves, bonded it to the cut in your ring, shaped it to exactness in smoothness and design, and then given it back to you stronger at the breaking point, and perfect to the outside observer. Sure, you and your spouse would know that it had been damaged previously, but you’d also know that you’d trusted the jeweler and turned your ring over to him, having faith that he would repair it; and you would both be grateful to him for that help.
All marriages suffer dings, cuts, and scrapes. If we as eternal companions together hand our union to God and ask Him to help heal it, He will return it to us stronger and just as beautiful as we want it.
I know your analogy was aimed at the protection (both literal and figurative) provided by the Garment; but the Spirit spoke to me when I read this post. I hope you’ll allow the diversion.
Lovely extension of the analogy. Thank you!
As I mentioned, I think I was in shock, and my fixation bordered on ridiculous. And it hurt.
Awesome. Well told. But ouch. And ick. (I’m not so good with blood…)
my husband and I got married civialy almost ten years ago and later this month we will have been sealed for 8 years, the ring that he gave me when we got married almost ten years ago I have never been able to wear, I am allergic to the metal in the ring, and it causes my finger to bleed. I carry them with me in my purse so they are with me always. The ring is a symbol just like garments, even if they are not seen they are written on the heart.
I really like your last line.
FYI: There are dozens of things one can wear as a ring that aren’t metal. Jade, onyx, plastic, a string…
My husband proposed with a ring he made himself out of bailing twine. 🙂 It has more sentimental value to me than the fancy diamond from Lee Reed, that he insisted I pick out for our Wedding Day.
Wise and well written.
So simple and so perfect. Thanks for sharing this!
Beautifully perfect analogy. I may steal it sometime for a lesson but I’ll give you credit.
Your story and the covenants you hold with your ring brought bittersweet memories. You echoed exactly what my husband told me for over 16 years and repeated often. He was true in the fact that he never, ever took his ring off. Not even while he was having an affair with his co-worker and he made sure she knew he would never leave his eternal family and his eternal companion. It is in the past and the anger is gone. Sadness still lingers here and there, when I am reminded that such simple and beautiful thoughts and covenants can be twisted and turned ugly.
Sad.
I’m sorry for the hurt in your marriage/life. But, I’m am glad to hear that your anger is gone. Forgiveness is key here. Hoping that your marriage survived and has been strengthened since. If not, I hope you will be blessed for your faithfulness.
Perfect analogy.
You told the story so well. I like the parallel with the garment that reminds me of my covenants and protects me.
I really like this
You brought tears to my eyes. Powerful and beautiful. Good analogy.
Great analogy. This story managed to score man points and points with the ladies all at the same time. That’s impressive. I think the world has a hard time understanding the sanctity of temple garments because they don’t hold anything sacred.
Amen.
Too true.
This is beautiful! Thank you.
Oh,MMM I can’t even begin to tell you how great this post made me feel. Sometimes things are just things and, sometimes things are symbols of something so much bigger than the thing. When my husband and I were married he we got the rings we could aford (read small simple and cheap). He always says he is going to buy me a new bigger ring, but to be honest no other ring is going to be the same, to me only the ring he gave me on our day carries the symbolism. It is a small simple ring with eternal meaning. Great post!
I love this! It is a perfect example, and a perfect analogy. When I was pregnant, my skin reacted to my ring. I would take it off when I was home, but every time I had to go to the doctors, I would put my ring on, and deal with the pain. I wanted people to know that my baby was coming home to a family, a mommy and daddy who were committed to love it forever.
Well said, of course. Thanks for the inspirational thought on the Sabbath morning.