Through All These Things in the Luggage

I laughed along at a radio commentary today stating that on the average women pack eight pair of shoes for a week-long trip. I then complimented myself for only packing four, plus of course the shoes I was currently wearing. Throwing some shirts, jeans, a dress, and all of the miscellaneous necessities (books of course included), into my luggage; bags were hauled out to the car for a trip to visit my very ill grandfather. Very ill, dangerously ill – the miles between home in Iowa and my family home/ grandparents’ home in Ohio stretch out much further than the miles marked off on the highway.

What happens upon arrival is that all of these bags have to be carried in. Knees unbend from their cramped space in the car, arms stretch up to their full range of motion overhead and then sweep down to grab the bags and take them to their designated areas. Wait a minute, did someone stuff bricks in here? I don’t remember this being this heavy when I left. The longer I carry the bag, the heavier it seems to get. Could it be carrying its own gravitational pull? Surely, the bulging seams and strained zipper are not signs of too much in the bag, the bag must have just gotten smaller. Right?

The what if worries are taking their toll this week as we search out information and try to mentally walk through every contingency plan. The thing about the what ifs are that they are disruptive to carry around, and do not add a lot of substantive value. Luke 12:27 states: “Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.”

I know I am not alone in this bonanza of over packing preparedness. As the packing process is going on, the what-ifs very punctually show up and start asking questions. What if your feet are cold, maybe one extra pair of socks of the thicker variety would be good to have. What if you need to have mucky tennis shoes, shouldn’t you just toss them in? What ifs quickly move into the bags, shouldering out justifiable items.

I am a kitchen sink packer. Friends can confirm it. But hey – the weather might swing 50 degrees and then who will be toasty in her parka or nice and cool in her sundress? Someone else might forget something, I’ll pack that too – just in case I will be prepared. In my own defense, I didn’t bring a jacket, hat or gloves on this particular trip. It is nearly June and that might be overkill. Maybe…

I pack my bag trying to think of contingencies. I might need this sweatshirt – toss it in. Extra socks? Sure, those are always good to have around. Lotion, mascara, and of course the various chargers and computers and such. Water bottles and snacks for the road are loaded in the car and we set off. The trunk is full and my feet are cramped for space. Considering my normal packing habits, I thought that this was pretty good.

Sounds pretty easy – right? No? The thing is, I have to choose to leave the what if and to pack the prayer instead. I have to choose to dismiss the what if and instead pick up thanksgiving. I have to put down my way and pick up trust in the sovereignty of God. The kitchen sink is still packed, but it is from a different kitchen. This one doesn’t strain my bag with bulkiness and is lighter to carry. Put down those what ifs and pick up thankfulness, prayer, and supplication.

Barefoot

I know that to some, it’s a bit of a contradiction – I love cute shoes, and I love to be barefoot. So, the morning starts, I get dressed for work and pick the perfect pair of shoes for the day. Black boots, brown boots, light brown suede boots, heels, something strappy, something more casual, something classic, the little black pumps that go with just about everything. But, I come home and the first that goes are the shoes.

What a wonderful feeling, barefoot, especially during spring. I came home from work yesterday, dumped the shoes, and the dogs and I headed out for a walk. Fresh spring grass worked up between my toes. Early enough in spring, that the ground is still cool, my skin felt the warmth on the sun and then the cool of the ground. Deep shadows were highlighted as I felt the earth chill beneath my feet. Mossy growth, new growth acted like cushions between me and the dirt.


I’ll hold onto the shoes, but – can’t wait to be barefoot again.

Pinchy Shoes

Have you ever come to the spot in Mulan II (the Disney movie) where the princesses sing about wanting to be a “regular girl”, without having to wear “pinchy shoes”? I’ve worn those pinchy shoes before; you know the really great looking heels that are squeezing the life out of my toes (sorry guys) but make my legs look longer. You wear the pinchy shoes very long, and that is pretty much your all consuming thought. My feet are going to die and take the rest of me with them!


Sometimes, circumstances occur where we have a pinchy shoe reaction. It grates a little, then a little more, rubs us the wrong way, the blister starts appearing, the blister gets bigger and bigger, the foot gets redder and redder... Next thing you know, you are throwing pinchy shoe fits over something that needed to be addressed miles back.


When the mother of Zebedee’s sons approached Jesus about her boys and their potential (she hoped) positions in heaven, I think there was a pinchy shoe moment for everyone else there. Uh lady, we were here too – what makes you think that your sons are all that great?


Okay, I’m paraphrasing – the conversation went more like this. “When the ten heard about this, they were indignant with the two brothers,” (Matthew 20:24). In other words – what a bunch of brown nosers! Notice a couple of things here, that the ten are upset with the two brothers. There is no mention of Jesus being indignant or of the mom being part of the backlash.


Instead, Jesus took a moment to point out the pinchy shoes in their midst. “Jesus called them together, and said, ‘You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave ...’” (Matthew 20:25-27). Um fellas (yes, I’m paraphrasing again), let’s take off that pinchy shoe of pride for a minute and talk about who is really great. Then, the response takes a turn that some might not have expected, as Jesus turns their logic on its head. Let’s go over that part again – to be great, you need to be the servant. That does seem rather backward doesn’t it? I mean, the great one has the servant. Yet, think of truly exemplary leaders, they have a heart to serve their people, company, friends, country, etc... They want to serve, they want what is best for them – not always what is best or easiest for themselves.


Jesus wraps it up with, “...‘just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many,’” (Matthew 20:28). What a gentle, yet humbling reminder that the Son of God, God in human form himself came as a servant. Is it too much to ask me to serve? When I think of it that way, then I’m thinking instead of the missed opportunities I have had to serve. Where has my own pinchy shoe of pride blinded me?