Sunday, November 19, 2017

Running feet

I got new running shoes two weeks ago and ever since my feet have been sore.  Every day my arches want a massage and my ankles feel strained.

I went back to the running store yesterday and told them the shoes weren't working out, but maybe I just need to keep running in them and my feet will get stronger.  Running-shoe-store-guy responded, "Yeah, don't do that."

{Points for Jason, who told me the same thing.}

I left the store 20 minutes later with a different pair of new shoes, rejoicing over their 30-day no-questions-asked return policy.  I hope they work better for me.  Shoe Guy was optimistic about them.  He said they'll do well for me because my foot is very "foot-shaped."

Okay then.  Sold.

This morning was perfectly typical in getting ready for church.  Somebody spilled the Claritin all over the counter; somebody got sent back upstairs to change into more appropriate clothes; Saturday night's dishes were all over the place; and when I finally grabbed my plate of breakfast and sailed around the corner, herding the kids ahead of me toward the car, my toasted English muffin shot off the plate and hurtled like a frisbee across the mudroom, scattering crumbs everywhere and landing in a dusty corner.

I wrestled with my stewing heart on the ride to church. [What mercy God planted us 30 minutes away from church!  I'd arrive in an uglier state much of the time otherwise.]  

Besides suspending the laws of physics, so my English muffin wouldn't have fallen prey to centrifugal force, what I really want is for my family to dedicate themselves to serving me every Sunday morning.  And for my long-suffering husband to read my mind and anticipate every possible convenience I require.

Trying to live life hoping the world will dedicate itself to my a little like running in shoes that don't fit my feet.  It makes me sore.  And I tend to think, If I just keep going, this will eventually work out.

But the reality is, I need to put on different shoes.  I need to rehearse the truth, again.  

I have sinned against Thy grace
And provoked Thee to Thy face


Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea,
A great High Priest Whose name is "Love,"
Who ever lives and pleads for me.

I read recently in Jeremiah, "your sins have withheld good from you."

Undoubtedly I need a shoe that fits my foot-shaped foot.  

And undoubtedly I need a universe-orientation that fits my God-shaped soul.  I was created for His glory--not mine--and running on a me-centered foundation makes everything off-kilter.  It withholds good from me.

And makes my feet hurt.

Behold Him there! The risen Lamb,
My perfect, spotless Righteousness,
The great unchangeable I AM,
The King of glory and of grace!

Richard Redhead, "God Be Merciful to Me"
Charitie Lees Bancroft, "Before the Throne"
Jeremiah 5:25

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