Shoes

If there was ever an item I hate the most, it would be shoes. My enemy for years, shoe shopping has become a physical thorn in my sole. Yes, I went there.

While it’s taken me years to accept the fact that my feet run long and wide, I haven’t accepted the fact that buying shoes continues to bring me grief more than any shopping experience I face. I’m like a kid in the checkout lane by the candy, throwing a tantrum because I don’t get what I want, or in my case, I have to do something I loathe. So, it’s more like a dinner table and vegetable situation than a candy aisle.

Why do I share this? Because shoes are essential anymore. We live in a world where you can get kicked out of an establishment for not wearing them. We walk, run, drive, hop, skip and jump everywhere, no less than in the beginning of time, we just get there faster by car.

If my whole life could be lived in bare feet, or maximum in flip flops, I would be a happy girl. Practical? Not really. Except that I wouldn’t have to replace my bright pink tennis shoes anymore. Yes, you read that right. Bright pink, purple accents…they were on sale, they fit, I bought two pairs…believe me, my face palm activity is at an all-time high these days.

But I’m thankful for my feet, because without them, I wouldn’t be able to chase my kids around, walk through the Target store for needless items, run to the aid of a person in need, or rub my cold toes against my husband’s legs, because, you know he likes that (snicker).

This is probably the weirdest thing I’ve posted online before…but ok. 🤓

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Patterns

My 5 year old son is learning about patterns in school. He has been applying that learning in other areas in addition to seat work. For example, I have been enforcing a breakfast rule that includes eggs or some other form of protein along with the standard Cheerios or toast. He is not a huge fan, but he will eat them. After a few days of this, there were a couple mornings where I ran out of time to make them, so he saw this as an opportunity to work another option into his breakfast. So on the mornings that I was making eggs, he would say “Mom, do I have to eat eggs?” Yes. “But mom, I’m making a pattern with eggs! I’m eating eggs one day, and cheese the next, then eggs.”

Can’t blame the boy, he’s creative. I’m not one that likes to strong arm my kids into eating food, but left to their own devices it would be donuts and chocolate milk every morning. I mean, why not?

Patterns are something we tend to do without thinking of them. Doing something out of the norm throws everything off, can create havoc, and a greater need for chocolate. But changes to patterns, or routines, can be for the better too. I’m not one that easily, nor willingly, makes those changes. What are resolutions for, but to be broken? But determination and a willingness to be changed can make the difference in how well those patterns change.

I’m seeking to make some gradual changes to my daily habits. Many of my current habits are bad ones, that need to be broken and replaced. This is not something I can do on my own; I first of all need the strength from the Holy Spirit and the grace of God to make those changes. But I also benefit greatly from the accountability and encouragement, as well as constructive criticism of a trusted friend.

Growth takes time. Slow change. Slow growth.

Words

I don’t always think about the words coming out of my mouth. When I am speaking to my child, or talking with a friend, my words can be sour or sweet. In that moment, that choice of words will bring life to the conversation, or kill a part of the relationship. More often than not, I am more concerned about being heard. It’s the flesh, the desire to drive a conversation and share more about me, my feelings and agenda.

But when I seek Christ, and the help of the Holy Spirit in that moment, the conversation can turn. In honor, preferring the other person, and seeking to refrain from anger and selfishness – the situation can turn out for the good.

Words can heal, soothe, and balm.

Words can harm, ruin and crush.

The soul.

I have to choose.

Start

I vividly remember, as a high schooler, getting so involved in the story I was creating in my mind that I missed a house on my newspaper route. Imagine my chagrin when I had to backtrack to find out which house it was. Well, living in a small town of under 1,000 people made it pretty easy to figure out who wasn’t reading the paper with their morning cup of coffee. The townsfolk also knew where I lived, and who my dad was, so it was easy enough to get their missing paper. Life was simple in a town that small, and yet so complicated.

My level of ambition was high at that age, but my drive was low. I didn’t feel pushed or strongly encouraged to succeed. But what level of desire to reach a successful height did I have? Not much. I dabbled here and there, but never sought to prove myself. Never really tried anything outside of my comfort zone. I lived in my own little world, surrounded by siblings and a few friends. I was comfortable.

But God – He doesn’t call us to a life of comfort. He calls us to be bold in the faith, to reflect the light of Christ and be salt and light. I’ve heard it my whole life. I thought I believed it, pursued it. But I didn’t.

So now, 15 years later, I start.