Things I Learned While Barefoot

They say college changes people.
Naturally, I have to agree.
It's changing me.
And I think that's okay.
Afterall, what's the point of all this
if you're not going to let it change you?
My only hope is that in the end
I find myself having been changed for the better,
The way better.

Last week, I didn't wear shoes. I just...didn't wear them. Not outside. Not inside. Not on the bus or in the bathroom or in class or through the parking lot. Six days; bare feet. What an experience!

Oh, you want to know why I did that? It's quite simple really. But also, it's a little complex. So I will give you the simple answer first. I didn't wear shoes because I wanted to see if I could do it.

Now, the long answer. There was an organization that came to my school a few weeks ago called Soles4Souls. They were collecting shoes to distribute to people in need around the world. I thought it was a really cool concept, and I would have given them some money, had I had my wallet on me. But, alas, I did not. And what they really wanted were my shoes. So, I thought about giving them some of my shoes for about....three seconds. Then I decided that I love my shoes. I've spent my whole life collecting shoes. I don't wear brand name clothing or buy new clothes that aren't a bargain, but I invest in my shoes. I save up for them and get the good ones. I don't wear super cool ones, like Nikes or Adidas or anything. I wear those "almost cool enough to be cool, but not quite" hipster sort of styles -- like Converse and Toms. And man, I love my shoes. I ask for shoes every Christmas. I ask for them when it's not Christmas. I spend my extra dollars on a new color of the same shoes that I already have. I've got quite a collection going, really. "But they're mine", I told myself when asked to donate a pair. "I already give to charities in plenty of different ways. Plus, the Toms that I'm wearing right now gave a pair to a child in need, so there!" And I walked away from the Soles4Souls stand.

That, of course, is not the end of my story. That was only the beginning. For the next few weeks, I could not stop feeling guilty about not giving them a pair of my shoes. I tried to justify it..."The shoes I have here at school are the ones I wear a lot. If I could have ran home and got some of my less-worn ones, I totally would have. But they would have been gone by the time I got back." And so on and so forth.
But really, it kind of hit me pretty hard over the next few weeks that I am super materialistic about my shoes. And I try to justify it by not being as materialistic about other things in life. But, unfortunately, that's not actually what God calls us to do. He doesn't say, "Give some things to me, and keep some things for yourself." No, my friend. He wants it all. Thus begins the process of true sacrifice.

God does not want our leftovers. He doesn't want the old shoes thrown in the back of our closet that have an inch of dust on them. Is that really all we're willing to offer the King of Kings? -- Dusty old crud-shoes? God wants the good stuff. The stuff that means something to us. God deserves the good stuff.

So I kind of just decided one Monday that I was going to stop wearing shoes. I didn't give myself a time goal or strict rules or anything. I just...took my shoes off, and didn't put them back on. And then I did it the next day. And then it became what I was doing. And I realized that it was totally God. He wanted to show me how much I really didn't need shoes. Like, not only did I not need 40 pairs of shoes...I didn't need any shoes. I just need Him. That's all. He's all I need.

Those who use the things of the world should not become attached to them. For this world as we know it will soon pass away. 1 Corinthians 7:31

Also, I have this: I went to Ethiopia over the summer, where most people did not have shoes. And, guess what? They were okay. Yeah, they were alright. Of course, they were very grateful if they did receive a pair of shoes. But, they weren't just sitting there in their barefootedness, being poor and not living, as we might picture them here in America. They were totally alive. More alive then a lot of us here are, I think. They were fine, friend. They were fine without shoes. They weren't tiptoeing over paths or watching each step for something that might be icky. They were okay without them. So why couldn't I be? That was the challenge. That was the idea. One week; bare feet.

It started as a simple personal challenge. It transformed into a social experiment, a spiritual awakening, a life lesson, and so forth. Here are some of the things I learned while barefoot:

• The ground is not as scary as we're made to think it is. I mean, really, I was fine. I didn't step on any glass. A nail didn't go through my foot. I have yet to develop any deadly foot diseases. Yeah, it wasn't completely pain-free. There was some gravel here and there that I wasn't too fond of. But really, it was all quite trivial compared to greatness of the experience itself.
• We live in a machine. Let me explain what I mean by that. You see, people in this society expect everything to always be the same forever. Change is foreign to us. Abnormality is difficult to grasp. Perhaps this is especially true of the college generation. We've all been on this earth between 18 and 25 years. We eat, sleep, and go to class. We wear jeans and a hoodie and eat two and a half meals a day with a cup of coffee in between. We carry a backpack, listen to our iPods, and check our email on our phones. Over. and over. and over. and over. and nothing. ever. changes. Until I took my shoes off, apparently. One person on a campus of 13,000 students takes her shoes off...and people flip out. It really surprised me how much of a reaction I got. It usually went something like this, "Girl, where's your shoes!" ...I'm not wearing any. "Oh my, you're crazy! Why you ain't wearing no shoes?" ....Because I'm really attached to my shoes and I want to show myself that I don't need them. "No way, girl. You gotta put some shoes on. You're gonna get some sort of foot disease! Aren't you cold? What are you gonna do in the winter? You can't just not wear shoes! You don't wear shoes on the bus? That's nasty! You're crazy." It was pretty interesting, actually, how many people straight up told me I COULD NOT just not wear shoes. As if they were the shoe police and had some sort of authority over me and my barefootedness. One guy stood in the elavator staring at me as he said, "You're not about to get on this elevator with no shoes on." Actually...I was. And I did. And I was fine. I didn't even die or anything. One of my friends told me in a most serious manner, "You can't just not wear shoes. You have to put some shoes on." Actually, I can. And I don't have to. I can actually do whatever I want to do. There are no rules on this campus about wearing shoes. Nobody has to wear shoes. My favorite comment was this: "Girl, you ain't wearing shoes at all? Don't you know this is MACOMB?!" And the thing is, it wasn't just a handful of people who freaked out on me like that. It was most people. The people who didn't freak out either just stared at me, not saying anything, or heard my purpose and contemplated it, saying, "Oh, that's really cool."  I watched people scan me all day everyday. I never noticed before how much we do this to people. We walk past someone and visually scan them, checking to see if they are normal. It goes something like this: "Female. Normal face. Normal hair. Glasses. Hoodie. Green bag. Jeans. ...Whoa. Wait. What? No shoes? Barefoot? (glances back at face to make sure face is actually normal, since barefeet often implies insanity) (stares at feet -- considers saying something) Hey, why don't you have shoes on? ....And then the conversation. It happened over and over and over and over. It was crazy. I probably answered that question over a hundred times over the past week. It was exciting.
• It's really liberating to break free from the machine. Oh man, I loved it. I felt like I was living or something wild like that. I felt like I was making a point. Proving something. Expressing myself. Being different. Being myself. Not conforming. Being independent. Being influential. Being radical. Those are nice feelings. It makes me look at the machine and become disgusted by it. I don't want to be a part of the machine, guys. I want to be alive. I want to be radical. I would encourage you to do something radical sometime. It feels really nice. It just might change your life.

• My feet are cleaner than your shoes. At first I felt bad about walking inside with my almost black feet. I felt bad about walking in classroom and on peoples' carpet, etc. And then I realized that my feet are cleaner than your shoes. Think about it. My feet accumate dust and dirt throughout the day. Then they get washed every night, and they are clean for the next day. They never have more than one day's worth of dirt on them. Your shoes, on the other hand, I'd be willing to bet don't get washed every night. In fact, have you ever washed the bottoms of your shoes? How many days/months/years worth of crap do they have on them? Yeah, see my point? My feet = way cleaner.
• Foot washing in Bible-times was pretty legit stuff. I guess I've never really put much thought into it. People washed other peoples' feet as a form of humility. Kay, cool, check. But it never really meant much to me. In Bible school and such when we would do a Bible-lesson foot washing example, it always felt kind of weird to me. Like...take off your shoes and socks so that I can put this wet washcloth on your already clean feet. Now I'm humble. Huh? Well, I think I found the missing piece to that puzzle of suday school foot washing. In the Bible, their feet were dirty. I mean, I guess I knew that. But when I was barefoot, I felt it. My feet turned black. They were grimy. And I was mostly walking on concrete and tile. Imagine Jesus. I bet he walked mainly on dirt and dirt. I bet his feet were waaaay dirtier that mine. And I bet he didn't get to shower every night either. If someone would have come to me in the middle of the day when my feet were feeling particularly nasty and knelt down and washed my them, I would have been in awe. What an act of love and care. It's like saying, "I'm getting down in the dirt and grime for you, because you are worth it." That's sweet, my friend. That's humility.
• I don't need shoes. Because I went a week and I didn't even miss them. In fact, I liked not having them. It was great. Think about all of that money and time and thought I've put into shoes in my life. Think about how much I could spend on them over the rest of my life. But, I don't need shoes. They are not a necessity of life. Now, I'm not gonna go all barefoot for life on you. I understand the practicality of wearing shoes, and I will probably wear them most of the time. But sometimes, I will not. And those will be lovely days.

So that was that. I did it. I went a week without shoes. I didn't die. I didn't even bleed. I didn't get in trouble. I was just fine. I didn't need them. What a lovely week. What a great life lesson, right?

But wouldn't it all be kind of silly if I just ended it right there? Because, afterall, what's the point of all this if you're not going to let it change you?

So I got rid of my shoes.

Not all of them, but most of them. Twenty-four pairs of them to be exact.

 

They went to a thrift store owned by a local church.

 Not that any of this is my own righteousness.
 Anything good you see in me is because of Jesus Christ.

So, dear reader, if you would, do something radical soon. Take your shoes off. Let yourself be moved. Be the difference. Because the way I see it is...What's the point of all this if you're not going to let it change you?

"Don't collect for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But collect for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves don't break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Matthew 6:19-20

As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. "Good teacher," he asked, "what must I do to inherit eternal life?" "Why do you call me good?" Jesus answered. "No one is good--except God alone. You know the commandments: 'Do not murder, do not commit adultery, do not steal, do not give false testimony, do not defraud, honor your father and mother.' " "Teacher," he declared, "all these I have kept since I was a boy." Jesus looked at him and loved him. "One thing you lack," he said. "Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me." At this the man's face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth. Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, "How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!" The disciples were amazed at his words. But Jesus said again, "Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.
Mark 10:17-25

New Life

I got this sweet little guy about a month ago. I felt that my dorm just needed a little more life. And, despite the curse my family has of killing plants, he is still alive and thriving! It's been really lovely, actually -- watering it everyday, opening the shade to give it sun, watching it grow. It's growing like crazy! This guy was a lot smaller just a month ago. There are new leaves forming everyday. They start out in this really tight little spiral sort of thing, then they slowly grow bigger and open up. It's pretty awesome. I feel like I'm contributing to something important -- some sort of living thing is depending on me for the neccesities of life. I love life. And growth. My beautiful little plant is becoming new again everyday. New leaves grow. Old leaves grow taller. It is visibly changing.
Yes. Everyday, we shall be renewed.

Childlike Faith

I witnessed the following happenstance this week:

A line of preschool children numbering twenty or so.
Three adults: one in front, one in the middle, one in back.
One rope.

Each child held onto the rope with one hand as their leader navigated them through the busy
college campus and across the street.
The rope kept them all together.
The adult at the front kept them on track.

So I stared at this cute situation for a moment, smiling.
It was quite adorable.
I considered simply appreciating its cuteness and going about my day.
But, I could not.
For there was more to what I was looking at than a cute line of children holding onto a rope.

You see, those children represent you and me.
And that leader...is God, our perfect leader.

The thing about the children is that they had no idea where they were going.
A lot of them probably couldn't even see the leader in the front or which direction she was turning.
But they held onto that rope.
And where the leader went, they followed.
It was as simple as that.

If only we made it that simple in our own lives.
Follow where God leads.
That simple.

I didn't see any of the three year olds step out of line saying,
"Now wait a minute, are you sure this is the way we are supposed to be going? I really think that way would be a better choice for all of us."

None of them shouted up to leader,
"Turn left up here! I know what I'm doing! In fact, I probably have a better grasp of this route than you do."

And still, none of the children let go of the rope and went off on their own path, seeing what they could accomplish on their own.

You see, those chidren knew where they needed to be. They needed to stay as close to their leader as possible. They needed to hold onto that rope and go where the leader went. They knew her way was the safest way. They knew that if they wandered from their leader, they could be hurt or lost or killed. They were very aware of the crazy, dangerous things in the world around them that they simply did not have the ability to handle on their own. They trusted that she wasn't going to lead them into anything they wouldn't be able to cross. They had faith that their leader knew exactly where she was going and precisely the path they were going to take.

Now, I doubt they asked her for the road map ahead of time. I don't think they sat at leader's feet and begged her to tell them exactly which roads they were going to cross. It's quite possible they weren't even aware of their destination.
All that mattered was that they were holding onto that rope.
And they knew that at the front of that rope was a leader who was going to take them where they needed to be.
They didn't question it. They didn't take thier own paths. They didn't beg for the directions the entire time.
In fact, they were all quite content hopping along on a beautiful autumn day, enjoying each other's company and loving to see all of the birds and falling leaves and passing students. They were just enjoying life, following the one who knew the way.

And the craziest part was, when one child tripped and fell down, being left behind, the entire line stopped and helped her up to her feet again. They then began skipping along in their line together. I think that's what the Body of Christ is all about. We don't leave anyone behind.
None of those children said, "Oh, you tripped and fell. Good luck getting up and finding us again. You're probably too far gone now for us to help you up anyway."
That would be absurd!

I could go through and explain all of these analogies. But, my guess is that you get it. My guess is that you've gotten it all along.

 "Some people were bringing little children to Him so He might touch them, but His disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw it, He was indignant and said to them, "Let the little children come to Me. Don't stop them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I assure you: Whoever does not welcome the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." After taking them in His arms, He laid His hands on them and blessed them.
Mark 10:13-16

"Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see." Hebrews 11:1

Not a blogger's best friend

College, that is.
College is not a blogger's best friend.

Because, you know, I'm already writing papers about play analysis and Freud and cleft lips. And then I'm reading plays and textbooks and textbooks and textbooks. And taking notes and attending lectures and having group discussions and studying. And memorizing lines and researching French playwrights and taking surveys and doing my own laundry.

And when I'm not doing that, I'm making friends and going to church and getting coffee and figuring out what the heck evangelism means. And using a swiffer duster and going to the grocery store and checking my mail and taking a nap and washing my hair and practicing yoga and attending weekend retreats and contemplating going to the gym and walking everywhere and making copies and checking out books and buying soap and folding the clothes I just washed and avoiding learning how to play yugioh.

Ergo...
Blogging is like...
Number 39 on the priorities list.

But, Alas! Be of good cheer, for I just finished number 38 (take Geography exam).
Stay tuned for some yummy blogging goodness this weekend.
We've got a lot of catching up to do, dear faithful reader!