My Very Own Christmas Shoes

I moved back to school about a week ago with one pair of “shoes”: flip-flops.


Granted, I own other shoes, but had left them at home over the summer while interning at Wayumi. Figured I could always go home one of these weekends and bring some belongings back to school with me upon returning. My beloved running shoes, which had cost me all of $1.50 at Goodwill, bit the dust around the time the summer ended – the soles having separated entirely from the rest of the shoe after a hike.


Selling bracelets from early morning to late at night for Threads of Hope at the state fair during this past week, there was no chance during the day to head to the store and replace them. Nonetheless, I kept up with my morning jogs for the most part. Nothing says, “You’ve gotten soft since your days of farm life” quite like running barefoot for a few miles on Waukesha asphalt. It went well until a few days into doing so; blisters were imminent if I continued, and I lamented this to myself alone as I walked down the hall to the kitchen on 2nd floor one late evening.


Next to the kitchen is the free pile. Keep in mind there were really only a few people living at NTBI then, thus no “pile.” But there in that spot was a pair of tennis shoes. I thought, jokingly, “Well that’s funny. What are the odds they would be my size?” To my shock and joy, they were. Size 9.


Maybe it seems like a little thing, but not to me. And you could call it coincidence or good timing or anything else imaginable, but I know my Heavenly Father. It was one of those moments where it’s as if He goes out of His way to say, “Hey.. you know that ‘If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?’ (Matthew 6:30) You didn’t even ask, but I saw, and I care. I love you.”


It reminded me of yet another testament to God’s faithfulness at another time in my life… also involving shoes. Seems to be His loving little inside joke with me! Here’s what happened…


In 2010, at the end of my Discipleship Training School in Egypt, our team was on our way to live and work in a remote area in Ethiopia for a month. We were told what we would need before leaving Egypt, which wasn’t much; but again I owned only flip-flops, which had served me well in the dusty Middle Eastern climate. Now we were leaving for an area of jungles, rivers, tall grass, mud and poisonous snakes… and it was required that we have shoes or boots.


I scoped out my options and decided on this pair of high-top hiking shoes. Black (goes with everything! haha) But alas.. not a simple fix. First, it was tough to find anything in my size (Egyptian women have tiny feet, and they usually don’t wear athletic shoes), but I figured I could always just go with men’s wear if necessary. The real issue was a lack of funds. For just SHOES, you ask? Well, yes, and frankly I felt humiliated; I had paid all my dues and fees entirely, but my visa and a trip to the Ethiopian embassy had gobbled up all but what amounted to about 5 U.S. dollars. Not even the cheapest shoes there (I’m talkin’ twine-and-duct-tape-on-cardboard-type quality) were going for that rate. Not even to the most sweet-talking bartering pro.


We’re supposed to, with thanksgiving, make our requests known to God, yes? We know that He hears, and we know that prayer truly is so powerful! I knew that, in my head. But all I remember of my pitiful prayer in regards to shoes was that it amounted to an offhanded, brief, fleeting sort of complaint in the middle of my prayer time one morning. It honestly didn’t even count as a request.


The night/morning of our flight to Ethiopia arrived. We were spending the night in a semi-enclosed “house” tacked onto a church in the middle of Cairo. Still I owned no shoes. We’d spent several hours in prayer for each other, for the team where we were going, for the Holy Spirit to be going ahead and paving the way, keeping us humble and using us as He saw fit – it was around 2 AM. Our flight was leaving around 4 or 5 AM, as I remember.


Out of the blue, somebody knocked on our rickety door/gate and delivered a package from a very dear Egyptian brother we all knew who I’ll call “Sam.” (haha.) It was New Year’s Eve, and he was passing on some gifts which had been sent to him by his brother (who was in Italy!) for Christmas. (Christmas celebrates Christ’s birth and therefore isn’t recognized as a holiday in the Islamic Middle East…)


Sam specifically marked one gift for each one of us; a notebook, for example, or some candy, or a clothing item.


Imagine how the blood drained from my face when I unwrapped mine to find shoes. Hiking shoes. High-top. European size 40, which for us is a size 9. BLACK. Better quality than the ones I’d checked out before.


Oh yes, I cried. I cried a lot.


Sam had absolutely no way of knowing that I even wanted shoes, much less what kind. He did not know my shoe size. I had not told a single soul that I was in need of footwear.


There is nothing like that moment when it hit me – not in the head, but in the heart – that my Creator is in reality here with me, right now, always, sees every little thing, and knows me more intimately than I know myself.


This came during a low point for me, in a season when I was begging God frequently for faith (I firmly believe it is something God gives; I could not muster what I needed on my own). I was a lot like the man described in Mark 9:24 who cries, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” Or the story in Luke 17 where the apostles say, “Lord, increase our faith!”


So people ask me if God really cares about every facet of the lives of His children. If He really hears. Answer? Absolutely and unequivocally, beyond a shadow of a doubt, YES. God is not Santa Clause, He owes us nothing, and these things don’t happen all the time; still, sometimes He just delights in blessing us in ways we definitely do not deserve… in this case, in order to patiently grow my faith. His answers don’t always look like we want them to. Sometimes His answer is “NO.” But does He hear, does He love us, is He working everything out for our good and His glory?


More than you or I can possibly fathom.


Even right down to the itty bitty “trivial” details. Like our toes.

Why the blog?

Hi there. Nice to meet you! Maybe we know each other, maybe we don’t. We have at least one thing in common, though: We live on the same planet in a solar system that keeps spinning because one all-powerful, all-loving, just God holds it all together. He does that whether anybody believes it or not. The style of the infinite really isn’t cramped by the musings and conclusions of the finite.


Anyway, you’re wondering why this blog has ever existed, and why I'm continuing now. Well, let me first tell you bluntly that while I love writing, I have generally thumbed my nose at the idea of blogging.


First, it’s completely narcissistic – when a person has a blog, what does it revolve around? The person of “ME.” All one promotes, even through wholesome and uplifting sharing, is SELF. Though a blog can point to good things along the way, the best of them are embarrassingly self-obsessed. MY thoughts, MY ideas, MY feelings, MY life, MY accomplishments, and worst of all, MY image. Most blogs I have seen are embarrassing facades, rosy portrayals of the lives of much-less-than-rosy individuals (which – let’s face it – is all of us). Second, it requires that we make the arrogant assumption that anyone actually cares greatly enough to read about the ups, downs and self-flattering details and of our lives.


I want to be raw and transparent with you. Not necessarily with every gory detail of my life and heart – but that in what I share, there is no pretense, no trying to make myself look good, no sham, no nicely-crafted, boxed-up, beautified version of my life so that people look at it and go, “Oooohh! You’re so great! So lovely! So wise, so inspiring, so perfect!” And under their breaths, or at least in their hearts, ”…Unlike me…”


No, friend. We are all human, we all struggle even once redeemed (moreso, really), we are all so ugly at the core that it’s a good thing we can’t see the depths of our hearts that God can. BUT GOD has given us victory. We do have the reality of His power within us. And that… THAT is worth proclaiming.


But here’s how this whole idea came about. It’s as simple as this: every day I see my King do things to me and for me that I don’t deserve. Constantly I see myself struggle and receive His help, grace upon grace, only to doubt Him just a little when He seems distant; only to become frustrated when I can’t see at the moment how every trial within my life (and without it) is allowed by Him and has a specific purpose.


Then I hit my knees and the tears flow, and I give up completely and fall back in love with Him. More every single day. My faithfulness to Him is a travesty - an up-and-down, inconsistent rollercoaster of loyalty that seems more to parallel the circumstances of my life than His character and nature.


And yet He is faithful. I KNOW that He is, I trust Him now whether I can see the purpose and next step or not. His goodness is a fact. His love is a fact. So is His faithfulness. Regardless of what happens.


At any rate, I want this blog to be a testimony to Him. Not to me, not even only to what He’s done and doing in MY life, but HIM. What’s a “testimony,” anyway? Well, it’s that. It’s me being so overwhelmed and overflowing with gratitude and awe over what He does and who He is that I can’t help but tell other people about it. I want you to truly know the God I have come to know! There is nothing sweeter!


Anyone can argue with the Bible, the Gospel, the best of apologists, Truth itself. But you cannot argue personal testimony. I know who I once was, and I know who I am now. And the only explanation is Jesus.


He. Is. Worthy.