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.
Traffic. Cameron’s porridge will be waiting. No turnaround time for shoes.
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:
- ‘Pride goes before destruction, and haughtiness before a fall.’ – Proverbs 16:18. Yip.
- 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.)
- 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?
Over the past couple of days I’ve been questioning God’s method in a particular situation. I know that His way is better, and He’s way smarter than me, so He’s got everything under control. But it’s still hard to accept, you know?
So while cycling home today, thinking about this, I lost concentration, veered off the sidewalk, then panicked and slammed on brakes, catapulting myself over the handlebars and onto the concrete. Say hello to a seriously skinned knee and sore shoulder.
It was just a great reminder that if I can’t even control a bicycle, how much more would I stuff up the universe? A lot more. That’s for sure.
I read this post just this morning, and it was the reason I came to the conclusion I did. Thanks for using your talent so wonderfully!
PS Every time I see the word “catharsis”, I remember you teaching me it’s meaning in Matric. Epic teacher is epic.