Barefoot

How many children aren't wearing shoes today?

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

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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.