Put Away the Waders...
I have worn many different shoes throughout my life. I've worn ballet slippers, pointe shoes, acrobatic shoes, even a specially made prosthetic shoe when I ripped the ligaments in my ankle ten days before a state competition; have you ever tried to look glamorous in a 4 inch heel on one foot and a plaster cast on the other? Before you strain your brain, I'll save you the trouble; it wasn't pretty. I've worn waitress shoes (that must have been pretty special because they enabled me to fall down a flight of steps and land under a table without spilling the drinks I was so clumsily carrying).
Aerobic instructor shoes were the coolest (Reebok Hightops, no less) circa 1986 - I completed the outfit with matching headband and wristbands - I looked really hip as I led a group of seasoned citizens through the latest rendition of Barry Manilow's "It's a Miracle" - You laugh...it was a paycheck! Several years later came the wedding slippers (but not before I wore purple stilettos on our first date, with white linen shorts a matching top and white tights...Can you believe he asked me out for date # 2??) and bedroom slippers (because they were the most comfortable while chasing toddlers). I have a pair of waders that I've only worn once (Christmas Day when I tried them on), it is a dream of mine to go flyfishing, not that I even hope to catch anything, but I think I could really "Be still and know that I am God" out there. (Not that I am God, but that He is God...ya know what I mean?) The waders are in the attic. God told me to put them away for a while.
Right now I have on hiking boots because Paul and I and the girls are on a journey, a trip to a far away land to bring home a daughter, and yes, she is our real daughter, it's just that God let her spend the first few years of her life in China. I'm sure there is a perfectly good reason for that, one that I may not understand today or tomorrow or anytime on this side of heaven, but I know that it is all part of God's great big plan and I love watching it unfold.
Today I have on nursing shoes. My 81 year old mother lives with us and her COPD, Asthma and Congestive Heart Failure are behaving badly. It's sort of an ironic time in my life; holding onto and trying to comfort one worn, wrinkled, tired, weak hand that is at the end of its journey while I reach so joyfully toward a young, fresh, pink (well, sort of yellow) little energetic, curious hand that is at the beginning of its journey...
(I thank Richard Smith and Lisa Mitchell for the analogy of the shoes, and for oh so much more.)
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