Barefoot

How many children aren't wearing shoes today?

I don't know. But it's thousands.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I walk into church. Today I'm wearing my pumps. I wear them a couple times a week in the summer. They're size 61/2 and have a five inch heel. And they're so comfortable. They go with every summer skirt I own, and they're the only shoes I can wear with one of my extra long dress pants since they're my tallest pair. They're leather, and two-toned, brown/tan in color. I love them. I searched all over for some pumps a couple years ago, and these hit the mark perfectly. There's no outfit they don't compliment, and although they raise my stature by many inches, I still find them comfortable enough to wear all day.

First thing I do when I find my seat is to kick off my shoes. I always do. Anywhere I go, the shoes are the first to go. I love being barefoot. Church is no different; it reminds me that I'm in God's presence, standing on holy ground. So there I am, shoeless, as usual.

As the message ends, the pastor asks us to take off our shoes. I can see it coming - we're going to be asked to give away our shoes. The first thing I noticed when I walked into church were the shoes lining the front. I glance down at my pumps on the floor, kicked to the side so I won't step on them. Then the pastor explains that we can serve by placing our shoes at the front, and they will be given to the barefoot in Haiti. Pumps are not exactly suited for the needy shoe owner.

The music begins, and people begin their barefoot walk to the front to give their shoes away. I look down at my pumps again. God, they're not practical for Haiti so can I keep them? I don't feel that Spirit-prompting saying, "Yes, Julie, give your shoes." Instead I hear the question, "Julie, what about your heart in this?" Pumps are not practical for Haiti, yes, but am I unwilling to give my shoes because I adore them so much when people are in need of something so simple and little? Will I give them up for the sake of the poor? I could have worn any number of the high heels hanging on the back of my bedroom door today, Lord, but why these? I'd readily give any of the others. I know I need to relinquish my hold on these shoes. Not for Haiti's sake (although I hope a size 61/2 girl gets to love them as much as I have), but to let go of something so frivolous. To love God; to love people; and to love myself a little less.

I walk out of church, barefoot.

I'm A Princess, Not A Wimp

I'm not a wimp; but I am princess.

I'm not a wimp. I play with 1500 pound animals, and I have the upper hand! I lift hay bales and 50 pound feed bags. I muck stalls. I eat out of trash cans on a regular basis - not because I have to in order to survive, but just because of the adventure. Bugs don't make me scream, and I don't mind killing them with a flip-flop. Not too much will make me shriek, actually, except maybe blood. I hate blood, and all things medical. I've camped for days without running water. Once I didn't shower for a full week (and when I did, it was garden hose style). I've walked 12 miles in the rain (complaining). I'll eat anything off the floor - even the barn floor. There might be more, but I'll stop there. I'm not a wimp.


But I am a princess. I love all things feminine (except nail polish. I hate nail polish). I feel comfortable in skirts, and think they're beautiful. Pink is my favorite color, although I don't usually wear it. I love big, chunky jewelry. I wear 4 rings (at least) at any given time: 3+ on my fingers, and 1 on my toe. I adore flowers - especially red roses (roses that aren't red -what's the point?). Sunrises (even when it means getting up at the crack of dawn to see one). Sunshine. Trees (trees and sunshine together - even better). Ribbon. Candles. Hairs/updos/products/styles/you name it. Chocolate: white chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate. I'm a princess.

I don't think I really have a point with this post. I'm a princess. But I'm not a wimp. The end. :)

Pieces of my Journal - 2007

I flipped through my journal from 2007 looking for a devotional that I want to use again, and in the process I read pieces of my entries. Here are some tid bits:

"Oh, God, direct my steps. I don't want anyone else to. I want You, and I need You."

"God, I take hold of Your grace and Your power, and I give You my pain . . . ."

"Make use of me, God."

"I want to go deeper . . . I want to be called to the dance floor . . . ."

"If there is one big thing that's holding me back from being and living out all that God desires for me, it's my heart's hold on my 'normal' life." --- "I surrender my 'normal' life. Confuse it; invade it; disturb it; strip it away. Free me to know You and be used by You."

"Awaken me, God. Awaken my heart, my desires, my passions, my purposes. I don't want to walk around dead - I want to be fully alive as a testimony for You. . . . Exhaust me in serving You, in worshipping You, in giving all of me."

"May my cry come before God; may my lips overflow with praise; may my tongue sing His Word."

"God, I pray that I will abandon my selfish desires, and ways. My little kingdom. And that that would free me to know You, and seek You. To increase Your Kingdom. It's the cry of my heart. . . ."

That's just a sampling. I used to journal and write prayers to Jesus all the time. I want more again. More of Jesus.

Tired of Superwoman

I went to the beach last weekend. There's something about the beach that I love. The sound of the waves. The feel of the sand. The cool ocean breeze. Peace. Rest. Refreshment. I sat on a blanket in the stillness of the morning, and I journaled to my God. We talked. I've been so busy; there's so much on my list of things to do that I rarely just sit with God anymore. I miss those times. He used to be first. He was more important than sleep, or anything else that waited on my list. I long for that, and I'm taking steps to make that happen again. Where did I lose it?

I lost it in the distraction of busyness. Running around doing good things, but missing out on what's better. So much of it is ministry. Doesn't that count for something? There are so many friendships that I've worked hard initiating, drained my energy even, for the sake of discipleship. Now I see that all of that without sitting at Jesus' feet first is in vain. And there's so much more I would love to do! I'm reading through Luke right now, and as I look at how Jesus spent His time, I want to love the poor, the prisoners, the widows, the sick, the hurting, the prostitutes . . . just like He did.

In Luke 10, Martha and Mary host Jesus. The story is familiar: Martha is running around serving Jesus and His disciples while Mary sits at Jesus' feet listening. Martha was serving Jesus. What better task to be involved? And yet, Mary chooses the better thing sitting with Him, listening to His voice.

I'm finished with being superwoman. I can't do it anymore. I'm tired of wasting time in shallow friendships; I'm tired of pouring into people who only dump all their garbage into my lap and walk away, caring less about anything I could say; I'm tired of phone calls unanswered and text messages disregarded by people who call me "friend"; and I'm tired of relationships that only push me away from God instead of stirring my heart to seek Him more. I'm tired of doing so much that I miss out on what's more important.

I just want to sit at Your feet, Jesus. I desire to know You, and be known. I long to unveil my heart, and seek Yours. I want to invest only in the people You give me and point me to. Let Your love overflow into their lives so that they see You. Thank you. I love you, Jesus.