Worldly Riches

"You always draw trees," said Asherel, "It's getting boring."
"But I love trees."

"And you always write about the same things- the Science olympiad helicopters, or trebuchets....or Comer and Evelyn and Alzheimer's, or dog agility. You should write about something new."
"But I have to write about what I know. This blog is about seeing God in my life, in the common things around me. Maybe my life is boring."
"Maybe you should just blog once a week. Then you will have people anticipating when the next one will come out."
"But I have a duty to my readers. They expect me to brighten their morning. I can't let them down. Besides, yesterday I drew a Guinea Hen."
"Yes that was good."

So I sat at the computer this morning thinking what do I have to write about that is new, even if I drew trees again. Well, I got new blisters on my feet. I have been taking long walks in all my shoes in preparation for our upcoming trip to NY and Boston to visit my parents and my first born son. All of them hurt my feet.
When I showed the shoe saleslady my blisters, she said, "My, you must have sensitive feet! Have you tried these?"
She brought out ugly shoes. They looked very supportive.

When I was young, I told my mom I had ankles that "fell into the ground." I didn't realize it then, but I was correctly diagnosing overpronation. Later xrays further revealed that I am missing a bone in my foot. I have looked every where for it, and cannot find it. It must still be in Mom's uterus. Anyway, as a result, Mom got me "saddle shoes" as a child. I think they are considered somewhat "nuveau geek hip" now, but back then, they were just geek and geek was not cool. They were those sturdy black and white lace up numbers that orthopedic clients or sometimes nurses wore. I think that experience marred me for life. It is not Mom's fault. She was doing what every good parent tries to do- make kids grow up intact. 

But as a result, I am always on a quest for the perfect shoe. The shoe that is beautiful and doesn't hurt my feet. I have thus far failed in this quest.  But what is stranger than this obsession in an otherwise fairly non-materialistic individual is that my grandmother shared this trait.  She had a thing about shoes....and bread. She loved both with a passion. And I seem to have inherited the shoe bread gene. My gene also mutated and I have an extra chromosome for haircuts as well. After God, and family, the things I love most are perfect haircuts, shoes, and yummy fresh bread.

"Mom....you have written about shoes before too."
"I have?"
"Yes....and haircuts. Do we really need to go into all this again?"
"Well if it is on my heart, then God must be sending me a message."
"Which is....?"
"Hmmm. Well, it did flit through my head last night that perhaps my heart is not being stayed on things from above, like it is supposed to be. Like, perhaps all my shoes blister my feet because in the grand scheme of things, nothing of this world ever will fit perfectly. It isn't even supposed to."

Yesterday, I heard someone on the radio attribute to some great philosopher,(can't recall who), that we are not to be of the world, just in the world.
"That wasn't some great philosopher!" I screamed at the radio, "That is in the Bible!"
It is a message that is very hard to live out in reality. Being immersed in the world, surrounded by people with shoes that are beautiful and don't blister their feet, I long for beautiful shoes that don't blister my feet. But I think the message of the Bible falsely attributed to that unknown philosopher is: don't worry about my feet. It is my heart and soul that matters.

"I still think you ought to consider writing your blog just once a week."
"Maybe you are right. But kayak season starts any day now. I can add that to my list of things to write about."
"Mom, you wrote all last summer about kayaking."

Oh well. Redundancy is the curse of old age. I wonder if there will be shoes in heaven?
A couple days ago, a friend who is agnostic and I were discussing God. She started the discussion. I try never to start such conversations, but wait for God to open the door. Anyway, as we were parting, I said something like, "Well, we may never know til we get to heaven."
"Maybe this is heaven!" she said.
I looked down at my blistered feet and guilty shoes.
"I sure hope not," I said.

Luke 16:10-12

   ¹⁰ “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. ¹¹ So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches?