I’m not really a shoe person. To me, shoes are functional, and if they’re not comfortable, I don’t want to have much to do with them. I’m not going to wear six inch heels if my feet are screaming in agony. In fact, I find my old cowboy boots rank in my top 10 favorite shoes, even though they’ve tracked through mud and manure. They’re not fancy or cute, but they’ve taken me on some great adventures.
I like them so much that when I wear them, I am continually aware of what I am doing and where I’m going. I don’t like to go through dirt or mud puddles – something I don’t worry too much about with my icky old tennis shoes. With my Converse shoes, I will go the long way around the grass because I don’t want them to get stained. I watch how close other people’s feet and shoes come to mine so that they don’t get scuffed. When I walk, I monitor where my steps are going to avoid gum or any other nasty thing that might dirty my shoes.
As I was monitoring my steps on my way out to the car the other day, I was hit with a sobering thought. What if I pay this much attention to my actions, my thoughts, and my words the way I watch my steps in these shoes?
What would I do? What would I not do? What would I say? What would I not say? If I took such care with my life as I do these shoes, how would my life change? How would the life of my family, friends, and those around me change? How would my actions edify others? What would I avoid so as to not hurt others?
And, finally, why is it so easier to watch my steps than my life?