This blog post has been on my heart, or rather, my heels for while. So much so that I have been thought-piling about it. Thought piling- when you pile up all your thoughts so as to spare your words for just the right moment henceforth concocting just the right message. I don’t do this often. I have word-lava spilling out of me at all times.
Recently, my soul took a humbling. I got a size 8 (yes, really) smackdown. Girls, I had to give away all my flip flops (if you live in Texas you can understand the magnitude of this decision), all my heels (if you are a female you can understand the magnitude of this decision), all my platforms/wedges save one pair – these were the hardest for me to part with. Wedges are my go to. They are my eber-kenegdo of shoes. My only way to see what people of average height experience.
Let me let you in on a little secret I’ve been withholding- my hip(s) have been hurting again. I can feel them weakening. But it’s not nearly like the No-Walk-Fest of 2010- so thankful. But still it was enough to make me breakdown and let go of an image that us girls cling to dearly: SHOES. I’m more of a purse-girl really, but dang, when you have to giveaway all your pretty shoes at 30 years old because your hips aren’t connected well with connective tissue that just does something to your feminine ego.
So I realized: “Gillian, you can’t be wearing 3in+platforms and be complaining about my hip hurts.” I had to be sensible. I had to go to Naturalizer. I have to choose sensible over fashionable and I had to not cry at the Naturalizer store. Can I tell you that this was a test? I don’t know if I passed or failed. But it was testing. Especially when I was looking for 3 pairs of my new life- I mean- shoes and there was the sweetest mother/daughter pair looking at the same shoes I was. The problem: THE MOTHER WAS 90, USING A WALKER AND THE DAUGHTER WAS SHOWING HER MY SHOES. MINE. I was looking at the same ones. Techinically, at that point they still belonged to Naturalizer and they weren’t mine at all.
Please hear my heartcries I was having that day in the Naturalizer Store:
I wanted to yell out: REALLY! COME ON!! YES THOSE ARE WAAAAAAY TOO YOUNG FOR YOU- LET ME SAVE YOU THE TROUBLE AND PROVIDE YOU WITH MY OPINION!!
So. Much. Pride.
STOP TOUCHING/LOOKING THROUGH YOUR CATARACTS at MY SOON TO BE SHOES!
Oh wait, I’ve had cataracts too.
Oh wait, I couldn’t walk either last year. Oh wait, you are so precious and I’m sorry.
You see, my pride is being killed off and I don’t like it.
And I think it’s beautiful that your daughter is so lovely to take you shopping.
I am going through this alone because no other 30 year old has to do this.
Oh but wait, I’m so thankful I CAN buy 3 pairs of shoes (yes emergency shoes budget-wise). How dare I complain about buying shoes. I hate my ugliness sometimes.
Dang it- more pride killing. Why doesn’t all my pride just die at once to spare me future uncomfortableness. DON’T I HAVE ENOUGH DEPTH ALREADY?
I’m so thankful I’m not in a Dr’s office right now.
My pride was singed off pretty brutally that day. My vanity had to get smushed in Naturalizer. Once again, I learned it just doesn’t matter. So what. People, I’m 5’1”. I’m not 5’3.1475” like I’d like you to think. My legs are not Giselle-length. You’re just going to have to love me or not how I am Naturally. God does, so there!
Oh and those are the 3 pairs I picked out. It’s kind of nice and freeing not having to choose through 30 pairs of shoes everyday. The Leopard had to be done to salvage my soul.
And about the whole question people ask: “Well what if that crippling pain comes back?” “What about having more eye surgeries?” Don’t let my seemed courage fool you- I continually ask that. That’s called worry though and it’s the opposite of faith.
And the answer really is: So what? So. I gotta know that God’s already got that covered, answered, healed. I know this is getting lengthy, I personally stopped reading my own post 3 paragraphs ago, but let me just share this.
There’s a Bible study at my church, Joy of Living. We are studying Daniel currently (well Jonah now). And my adorable, precious friend and neighbor, Lisa is a teacher. God uses her in my life in a big way. The Lord shared an amazing truth through her to me the other morning in the form of a lesson entitled: Lessons from the Furnace which was all about Daniel 3 and the story of Meshach, Shadrach, & Abednego. This one part struck me and it ties into my worry/fear over when my body will give out next:
16 Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to him, “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. 17 If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us[c] from Your Majesty’s hand. 18 But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”
Did you catch that? “But even if He does not…”
Even if He does not heal me instantly. Even if He does not- I will not fear. I will not praise my body working (my gold statue). I will let that fear go. I will give it over and back to Him where that belongs. I just trust.