Stepping out of your issues into freedom

I have shoes. Literal and figurative. I have one pair of broken flip flops, one pair of chacos and a pair of tennis shoes. I also have a closet full of other shoes back at home. But there is another type of ‘shoe that I have; issues. Family issues, personality issues, issues of worth, respect, love. And I have more than my share of those as well.

As a team, we have spent a lot of time talking about our ‘shoes. We have walked and talked miles and miles in each others’ ‘shoes in an effort to understand and help one another. We live in community, so often time we even share our ‘shoes. Personally, I have a lot of disappointed shoes. I have an equally large number of fearful shoes. I have ‘shoes for days when I don’t like my family, when I don’t like myself and other such special occasion wear. And as we have been taking the time to walk in each others’ shoes as a team, we realize just how very devastating some of them can be for growth. And we come to understand how painful some of them are, without us even realizing it. Often we have been functioning for so long on sub-par footwear, we just get used to them.

Among the discussions that we have had about shoes and the parallels that we can draw, Samantha came up with a pretty poignant remark concerning the holocaust museum in Washington D.C. In the museum there is a room full of children’s shoes. Children that were murdered. And the Nazis that gassed them did not see them for their humanity, but instead stripped them of the only valuable thing they had. Their shoes. So often times we look at each other in the same mentality. We judge each other based on the issues that we carry, and the way that everything we are reflects our imperfections. It is all too easy to latch onto these flaws and define each other by them, instead of looking past the shoes to see the person walking in them. I am guilty of this. And I know you are guilty of this as well.

But two days ago, I felt called to take off my shoes. Figurative and literal. I have watched hundreds of Haitians go day to day with no shoes, and wondered what it would be like to walk on the broken ground. And I have often wondered what the freedom of not having to wear any of my ish-shoes would feel like for a day. And so with boldness I walked out, in bare feet. And three of my teammates joined me.

I did not know what I expected to learn from this exercise. I just wanted to challenge myself and ask God to carry me on. And he did. He carried me on, when we arrived at the ministry site and Daniel got so ill he collapsed. He carried me when He showed me someone’s need and asked me to fill it. He carried me, as we walked back the 2 miles from Tigennen in bare feet, through slums and streams and broken bottles, the same way we had just come ten minutes before. He carried me as we went to the clinic. Ran tests. Rested, and prayed. He carried me when walking through the market every single person laughed at us. And he showed me that when you are without your issues/shoes, people will try to give you their own. Don’t take them. It’s a dangerous game to play. I prayed more than I have in a long time, because when you are barefooted, every step that you take has to be intentional. There is no room to stray from the path. The ground is covered in broken bottles, metal shards, rough earth, and fallen buildings all of which can cause injury. And underneath our ‘shoes, our souls are tender and unprepared for the world we live in.

There were a thousand and one miracles that happened on that day. And no one, not one of the four of us cut our feet. They hurt, oh man did they hurt. But I felt like I grew closer to God and my team through this. I didn’t feel like it was a day without shoes, I felt like it was the day I finally let God carry me where He wanted me to go.