I had planned to meet my good mommy-friend at, where else, Target. We both had money from Christmas and were eager for an excuse to get out of the house and swap mommy stories.
On Friday I had ventured out with Lizzie to spend some of my aforementioned Christmas cash. I had found not one, but two dazzling red shoes on super clearance.
Exhibit A: Deep red flats bejeweled with huge, bright gems ($10).
Exhibit B: Shiny ruby heels ($12).
That brings my red shoe total to three, or four if you count my satin zebra slippers with red leather accents.
Is that terrible?
You are probably wondering if my revelation from God was that I had too many red shoes. It wasn't. Whew!
Maybe he is saving that for another day.
I hope not.
You know how it is when you have new things to wear. You want to show them off as soon as possible. And, seeing as how I was cooped up for weeks and weeks and weeks (maybe I'm exaggerating, but only a little) I was excited about the prospect of being SEEN. It seemed like a good occasion to christen my new footwear.
Because it was a simple outing and I only expected to go from my car to the store, I donned the flats. Sure there was still snow on the ground, but by Saturday it was very melty, remember?
My house to the car. Fine.
My car to the store. Fine.
Inside the store, waltzing around. Dazzling.
But then we added a trip to my bud's house. She warned me that her parking lot was a mess and impossible to navigate with the said slush. But never fear, there was a "trail" from a nearby strip-mall that would take us right to her door, and the public parking was much better for little cars.
Great! More visiting time!
It turned out though that my bejeweled shoes were no match for the muck. My first step out of the car landed in a puddle up to my ankle, completely submerging my new shoes in dark, oily, ice-cold water.
The trail was no better. With each step, I saw my new, sweet slippers darkened, smudged, sullied by the snowy wasteland.
I considered crying. I considered whining. I considered forgoing the whole visit in an attempt to save my shoes.
But my heart heard a little whisper. "They are just shoes."
Okay, I realize that that may not be a major revelation to most of you. But in the process of coming to terms with the mess that is motherhood, I have taken refuge in fashion. I like looking together. I like being "that mom" who makes it seem so easy.
There is nothing wrong with looking good. Or with my glittery red shoes. But there is something wrong when they own me. Which I confess was starting to happen.
So as I sloshed through the puddles, and watched the toes of my shoes blacken (you can see it in the picture) I just smiled.
I was with my friend, headed to a warm cozy house. I could have mourned the wreckage of my purchase, but instead, I choose to let it be.
We had a yummy lunch, lots of laughs and a successful hair-dying. I would have missed out on so much had I been absorbed in the state of my shoes.
I wonder how many other moments in my life I need to say, "They are just shoes."? "It is just..." I don't want to be a woman who is blown and tossed by the winds. I want to be steady, secure, sure. I do not want to be distracted by disappointments and miss the joy that is waiting to be lived.
Exhibit A, the flats, were just the first taste of my realization. The heels took their turn later that evening. But I think, that part of the story will have to wait until tomorrow.
Stay tuned for Red Shoe Revelations: Part Two.