A Flip Flop Kind of Walk?

How many pairs of flip flops do you have?

This is the time of year when we tuck away our sweaters, heavy coats, and gloves, and trade our boots and wool socks for lightweight fabrics, short sleeves, canvas flats, and FLIP FLOPS!

Did you know that flip flop style shoes have been en vogue since at least 4,000 B.C.? They've been worn across the globe and throughout history. Egyptians constructed their flip flops from papyrus and palm leaves. In India, they used wood. Rice straw was used in China and Japan. Tribes in Africa wore rawhide flip flops. The British Museum displays a pair dating back to 1,500 B.C.* This is about the same time Moses discovered the burning bush, and God told him to take off his sandals because he was standing on holy ground.

It appears the flip flop is the definition of timeless fashion for men, women, and children!

But there's a problem. Flip flops don't offer much foot support. A google search revealed that wearing them too much can cause overpronation, flat feet, blisters, ankle sprains, and even broken bones. We like the way our feet look in them, but sometimes our feet aren't too happy. And the older we get, the truer this statement is.


If we're going on a walk or a run, common sense tells us to opt for footwear with more support: the stable, sensible, dependable sneaker!

This reminds me of the New Testament phrase, "We walk by faith, not by sight." The Amplified Bible says it this way, "We regulate our lives and conduct ourselves" by faith.

The walk of faith is not a flip flop kind of walk! It's an intentional, courageous, conviction or belief in God's truth when we see His faithfulness in our lives and when we can't see Him working. That's what faith is: to believe without seeing.

Sometimes, on our walk of faith, we're in a good rhythm. We're making progress. We enjoy many bright and beautiful blessings along the way. Maybe we have a walking buddy to encourage us along. The course is going well.

In other seasons, the path winds uphill and then plunges down. We trip over our own shoe laces. We're out of breath. The ache in our side and pain in our legs feels overwhelming. We fall so far behind, we wonder if it's worth it to keep going. Or maybe it's all we can do to put one foot in front of the other. Or we even find ourselves crawling forward inch by painful inch.

Can you relate?

As many of you know, God has given me the opportunity to write our story down. I'll always remember the day I received Penned Without Ink in the mail and showed it to my writing critique group. As we sat around the table, one of them said, "And look, they even put a cross on the cover." 

A Cross? Where? The rest of us studied that cover for several minutes, and not one of us could see it until Jo Ann pointed it out. Now it's the first thing I see. (Can you find it?) The design artist did a masterful job communicating that in the midst of trauma and crisis, even when we don't see it, we are surrounded by grace. God's grace.

Let's take courage today and lace up our sneakers. We have a God who sees us in our walk of faith. He hears our cries. He surrounds us with His love and care. Even when we can't see Him, He promises never to leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5-6).  

*https://www.panamajack.com/blog/6-things-you-never-knew-about-flip-flops/

**Photos from bing.com/images/free to use

 

Lessons From the Let-Down

I sank into my favorite chair and took a deep breath. 

Photo by Julie Manwarren

What a week it had been! My sister flew in from Indiana. Two of my daughters and their little sons came in for the weekend. My book signing turned out to be a wonderful time of greeting friends from the community and area churches, some closely associated with my late husband, Barry. They came and they stayed, coffee in hand, seizing the opportunity to catch up with old friends and meet new ones. Afterward, the family gathered around my dining room table to sip soup and recount God's blessings as many took our story home with them that day. 

Photo by Julie Manwarren

On Monday evening, my sister, and I enjoyed our dad's famous chili, and together, watched old slides, once again hearing his navy stories and enjoying poses of us as little girls with very young parents. The next couple days we shared meals, raked up leaves (Dad's and mine), and enjoyed just being together until Wednesday evening, when Barb boarded a plane heading west and I led a Bible study on Chapters 11-14 of my book. 

On Thursday, I fulfilled my time in the dentist chair, ran to the Ronald McDonald House to present them with a check (proceeds from the book signing) and a copy of Penned Without Ink for their library . . .  then finally found my chair.

Whew!

But I don't do let-downs well. 

By Sunday evening, my eyes were "gunky" (as my mother used to say), bloodshot, watery, swollen, and irritated with bags underneath. An uninvited case of conjunctivitis brought my go-go-go pace to a screeching halt. The side effects from the drops reduced me to sitting alone in my living room with the shades drawn, wearing sunglasses, and squinting to try to read blurry texts from my girls. 

Google Images

A let-down, indeed!

But in spite of all this, I wanted to listen . . . to listen to the still, small voice that often whispers truth at times like this. Here's what I hope to take away from this experience:

• An even greater appreciation for Barry, whose eye issues never left him after the car crash. Again I remembered 2 Corinthians 4:18: "The things that are visible are temporal (brief and fleeting), but the things that are invisible are deathless and everlasting" (AMPC).
• An increased sensitivity to those who suffer illness alone, who can't drive themselves to pick up what they need, who don't have someone present to talk things through.
• An awareness that perhaps my life should include a little more down time. It's been a hectic eighteen months since Barry passed away. Maybe I need to make time to finish a quilt, read more, and have friends in more often.
• A renewed realization of the fragility of life. James 4:13-16 came to mind, especially verse 15: "If the Lord is willing, we shall live and do this or that." All it takes is pink eye or some other where-did-this-come-from ailment. Or rolling fog. Or any number of "unexpecteds," and we again realize God's sovereign control and our human frailty.
• A sense of comfort, knowing that God regards me with compassion, and nothing - not even my contagious eyes - could separate me from His love and grace (Romans 8:38, 39).

The meds are doing their jobs well. I am much better and oh-so-grateful to be on the other end of this week. 

So, when you're on the downside of a let-down, remember to listen for the whispers from the God who cares about all that happens to us.

 

Peace in the Midst of Brokenness

Every once in a while I run into something that not only catches my attention, but I find myself going back to - to reread, to think about, to try to remember. Last week, a wonderful friend emailed me a post I've returned to multiple times (below). She and her husband have faced some serious health challenges lately. It has not been easy for them. Yet I sense a peaceful spirit in her correspondence. It blesses me.

Peace. Isn't this something we long for?

The following post by Scotty Smith is a prayer about peace based on Isaiah 26:3, 4. "You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock." 

A Prayer for Peace in the Midst of Broken Stuff

"Most kind and trustworthy Father, you haven’t promised us a storm-less, hassle-free, disappointment-empty life. You offer us no formulas for decreasing the probability of sad things happening around us, or disruptive things happening to us. But you have promised something that transcends the predictable uncertainty of life—your peace." READ MORE.