It’s lovely, isn’t it? Coin pearls of all different shades. Every time I wear it, people ask about it. It really is pretty.
But, today, it’s my nemesis.
It was around my neck this morning as I was all dolled up for Bible Study. Drop off Lydia to class. Off to lobby for an opening coffee. Off to classroom for lesson where a few women admired it. Off to sanctuary for lecture. Then, pick up Lydia in class, to car, and to store where I gathered a few new tops to try on in the dressing room where…I noticed I no longer had my lovely necklace around my neck.
Oh no.
Stay here, Lydia (as if she’d notice that I step away for a few seconds when she was fully engrossed in Yo Gabba Gabba on my iPhone).
No sign of it on the store floor–and I really looked in addition to enlisting staff to help me too. I left my name and number and a description of my lovely necklace, and the ladies there promised they’d look for it. Back in the car. Back to the church. Retrace my steps all while holding Lydia still fully engrossed in whatever she could find on Netflix. Classroom to ladies room to sanctuary to parking lot. Nothing. Not a single coin pearl to be found.
Mom, remember that necklace you gave me with all the different color coin pearls? How hard would it be to find that at the pearl market again? I love it, but it’s gone. I’ve been looking for it for 45 minutes now, and I can’t find it anywhere.
What a relief when she said not to worry. She had an extra one that she had picked up for herself but she never wore. I could just have hers.
Sigh of relief. I could give up the search and take these tired and hungry girls home.
As I ran back to the car, I heard a little jingling noise which is when I looked down–right on down my tank top with a shelf bra that was layered under a cardigan, mind you–and saw it. Yeah, my lovely necklace had fallen into my shelf bra where apparently I must have some sort of nerve problem (?) and was all snuggled up in there while I was searching all over creation.
For those of you who think I just over think all day and write about my deep thoughts, there. I’m just a normal, frazzled mama with a lost necklace stuck in my bra. Go ahead, laugh at me like my mother did.


I don’t know this woman due in only 2 months. I can’t begin to understand what her days are like, what today is like for her. I imagine that she’s exhausted both physically and emotionally. I imagine she’s getting up in the middle of the night too many times to keep count between dealing with a toddler who still cries out at night and having to get up to pee…again. I imagine she fights an internal battle daily as she feels her baby girl squirming around inside her but hear’s the cries of the children she’s parenting and sees the bills stacking up on her counter. I imagine she feels alone and inadequate and remembers ideas she had of what life would be like for her and wonders if she’ll ever get remotely close to them again. I imagine she is looking for redemption somehow and thinks that maybe knowing that her baby would be raised by a couple who desperately want a child would somehow bring that. But, that’s just what I imagine.