Friday, August 28, 2009
When Something You Love Disappears
Growing up, I was a barefoot girl. Would walk around the yard barefoot. Nice soft feet in April. Tough by June. Able to run on gravel by August.
Naturally, I would walk barefoot inside the home too. Unless, of course, it was cold enough to require socks.
Moving to Northern Alberta, Canada for post-secondary education necessitated the re-education of "minimal sock wearing" to include such words as angora, merino wool, and the like.
I still enjoyed walking barefoot or socked inside over the years that followed University - spurning my mother's constant slipper-wearing. Clip, clip, clip. They seemed so noisy. And she even took them on holidays with her - wearing them in hotels, at Auntie Irene's home, or in a camp cabin.
Six years ago we moved to an acreage that had ceramic tiles over much of the main floor and my feet began to ache when I would spend large amounts of time in the kitchen. I discovered slippers reduced the pain and began to search out good, comfortable slippers.
After looking through a few stores, found a pair at Wal-Mart of all places, and they cost just $12 to boot (no pun intended). I noticed after Christmas these same slippers had gone on sale, so I stocked up a little.
And then, last year, they changed the design of those slippers, so that now they flipped and flopped, rather than slipped and walked.
Out I was, looking from store to store, searching for the perfect slippers.
Last trip to Costco, I found some again!!! NukNuuks they are called. They come in pink and grey. I opted for the grey - more practical with all the goop I spill on them.
Well, they have gone missing!! I have searched high and low. Who knows where my beloved NukNuuks have disappeared, but I know we'll be making a trip to Costco soon to get another pair. In the meantime, I have been complaining... the floor is too hard. My feet are cold. Where are my NukNuuks????
How is it that something so insignificant can mean so much?? Oh... sin, I guess. Discontent. Here the good Lord was allowing me to experience a loss - though small, and I have been complaining. The words of Paul ring in my mind, "for I have learned to be content" (Phil.4:11). Maybe that's why my slippers went for a walk.
As I tread today Lord, may I rejoice in the discomforts, knowing that they teach me about You, and allow me to learn a little along my walk.