Shoes

They say you can’t understand what someone else is going though unless you’ve gone through it yourself.  The thing is, even those who have gone there, don’t always understand. 

Maya Angelou is quoted as saying “All God’s children need traveling shoes.”  If you had asked me years ago what that means I probably would have given you some ambiguous Christianese statement that gave the illusion of understanding.  Not now though.  Now I have a real understanding of what she meant.  If I am to go where I am needed, where God is calling me to be, then I need to be ready, even if I’m not particularly prepared.  I just have to have my shoes on.  And it’s ok that my shoes are old and tattered.  It just means I’ve been using them.

2010 was a growing year for me.  I learned what it meant to really rely on nothing other then Jesus.  I took a step back and let God do His work, and trusted in His timing.  I gained a new understanding for what friendship really means and that not every relationship has to look the same way.  I realized what it really means to be a parent, and accepted that sometimes it means letting go.  I fought battles – with myself, with others, and with satan.  Some of those battles I won, some I lost, and others I let die out.  I prayed like I have never prayed before, and then prayed again.  I never gave up on what was important but let pass what wasn’t worth it.  I tried new things.  Some of those things I failed at, and others I didn’t.  I cried, a lot.  I laughed even more.  I made time for me, even when others who should understand why I needed to, didn’t.  I accepted help, although more often declined it, but I always appreciated the offer.  I admitted I couldn’t do it all, and for once, determined it was ok to say no, and to excuse myself from that which I couldn’t continue.  I began to smash the old records in my head, and worked hard not to replace them with new ones.  I defeated the desire to go back to old ways of handling things when times were tough, and picked up new tools to keep myself going.  I walked, a lot.  And when I couldn’t walk anymore, I rested, and then I started again. 

I can’t say if I ended 2010 a better person, a better mother, a better wife, or a better friend.  But I tried.  And I’d like to think that if nothing else, I ended the year with a few holes in my shoes.