Barefoot in the Parking Lot

So...have you ever left church barefoot? Not only that but have you ever left behind your favorite pair of shoes, never to see them again? Ever dream of doing just that and feeling very much okay with the whole thing?

I never would have dreamt it. And if I had, I don't think I'd have been at all "okay" with it in my dream. But dreaming and doing are two totally different things.

Of course, it's all my teenage daughter's fault. She's the one who led me to this craziness of a church. This place where they spoke of the Joy of Giving and then appealed to the heart of those listening to take off the very shoes they wore into the service, bag them up, and leave them behind. You should have heard the buzz of whispers as people looked down at their feet and chuckled uncomfortably.

Which was the whole point of course.

Here's what went through my head...

• Of all Sundays to support my teenager's attempt to make her faith her own...
• Of all Sundays to visit the place where my teenager desires to worship...
• Of all Sundays to wear my absolute favorite pair of brown wedges...
• Of all Sundays to have to put feet (couldn't resist) to my faith...
• Of all Sundays...Wow.

It was the Pastor's prayer that provided me the time and the closeness to God to decide to leave behind the cutest shoes I own(ed). But it had nothing to do with the shoes (although I hope that today one discouraged woman looked down at her feet and felt the same fleeting sense of satisfaction I felt when I wore them.)

Anyway, it had everything to do with me snapping out of an all too familiar bout of self pity. You see, for the past two or three weeks I had become increasingly discouraged, depressed and downright (secretly) mad at the world. There were no solutions, there was no hope, there was just no time to live a life that really mattered. And all of that together was making me really really grumpy.

Until Sunday, when someone asked me to do something for someone else. Something really unexpected - spontaneous - something really uncomfortable. As easy as it may sound to you, it took a huge leap for me. But once I closed my eyes and rested my head in my hands my heart became still and peaceful like it hadn't been in weeks. My stupid shoes became so unbelievably insignificant.

And as I tiptoed up to my daughter and her friend (because otherwise my pants were like 2 inches too long) I laughed and said, "Why are you guys still wearing your shoes???" They were dumbfounded..."Mom, you know you didn't HAVE to do that..." and "Oh my gosh, my Dad did the same thing, Miss Marianne..." and "Wow, Mom, I feel really bad..."

And I just laughed again and said, "Don't...this is what it's all about," and I felt better than I have felt about God, about my daughter, about myself and about the world (you know I get carried away) than I've felt in quite a while.

And, no, it's not because now (between tomorrow and Sunday) I HAVE to go shoe shopping.

:-)