I embarrassed my son this morning. He’s nearly four, and he knows when it’s ok for his mom to wear luminous pink supremely fluffy slippers. And when it’s not.

Murray usually drops the boys at school, but I had an easy start to my day, so offered to do it. Wow, I’m a good wife. Little Scott was staying home with Maria and suspected tonsillitis. Wow, I’m an intuitive mom.

These were my thoughts as I headed to Heavenly Tots. Then I had another really self-satisfied thought. Wow, my feet are incredibly comfortable.

Hmm.

Oops.

Traffic. Cameron’s porridge will be waiting. No turnaround time for shoes.

Confessions.

And decisions.

Me: ‘Ok boy, so should I go in with slippers or barefoot?’

Cam: ‘Mom! Barefoot!’

So barefoot it was, with a lame explanation to all the grownups I passed. There were half-smiles and slow nods that said, ‘Whatever, weird lady…’

Here are God’s reminders to me through today’s mildly mortifying shoeless experience:

1. ‘Pride goes before destruction, and haughtiness before a fall.’ – Proverbs 16:18. Yip.
2. Going barefoot means I don’t get ahead of myself. The sharp gravelly bits slow me down. Give me time to think about who is really in charge. Ouch. Who it’s really all about. (Conclusion: Not me.)
3. Going barefoot means I can feel the tremors of others’ pain. This is less melodramatic than it sounds. I just mean, arrogance has you walking on air. It numbs you to people’s trauma. Which renders you kind of useless to society.

Do you have any really cool humiliating stories to share? Something that got your feet back on the ground and reminded you that God is cosmically bigger than you, and that the glory is His?