Patsy Clairmont - The Shoe Box: Walking in the Spirit

I f you want to buy me a gift (as if ), dont buy me shoes. Yep, I said dont. Instead, give me a gift coupon to purchase my own footwear. You see, Im really picky. Besides, I love toting home shoe boxes. I feel so, so... womanly. And it tickles me to know the fun shoe choices tucked inside will enliven my wardrobe. Even after the boxes are empty, they become the perfect spot to store stuff. Good stuff like pictures, gloves, memos, scarves, receipts, and even outdated shoes that Im waiting to come back into style.

Like thats going to happen. Oh, some looks do go full circle, but the new version always has a fashion adjustment that dates the ones Ive tenaciously held onto.

Shoes are addictive. I think thats because they come in so many flavorsmules, pumps, flats, spikes, wedges, platforms, etc. And its a good thing they do because the wrong shoes can wreck a girls outfit, not to mention her feet and her attitude. Imagine Martha Stewart in strapless pumps spreading fertilizer over her garden while announcing, Its a good thing. Nah, its not going to happen. What about Laura Bush attending a White House news conference wearing a classic navy suit accessorized with iridescent-studded motorcycle boots? Tacky. Or imagine the Queen of England horseback riding in her house slippers. Uh-oh, call the royal shoe patrol. Yep, shoes definitely leave loud statements.

But shoes arent the only things talking. I remember a declaration my feet made when I attempted to hoof the length of the D/FW International Airport in high heels. I know, I know, what was I thinking? Obviously I wasnt. Less than halfway through the terminal I thought I was terminal. My feet were pulsating like hot dogs on a spit. After developing a painful limp, I pried my now-swollen tootsies out of my heels and finished the hike to my gate stocking-footed. That did garner a few stares, but thats not the sort of footwear news I want to make.

A kickier statement is made when, prior to the Miss America pageant, the beauty contestants participate in a shoe parade. How fun is that? The young women, wearing elaborate outfits, perch on the backs of convertibles, and as they cruise by, the spectators yell, Show us your shoes! The bevy of beauties lift their feet to show off the most outrageous shoes youve ever seen. Some are arrayed in huge feathers or trees (yes, trees a foot high). Other shoes are jeweled, sequined, striped, and polka-dotted. After the parade, the shoes are showcased with the contestants gowns.

Now, while I have a slew of eclectic footwear, Im not sure any of it would qualify for a parade. I seem to be the queen of scuffs, gouges, and fractured heels. Besides, I dont have even one pair with a tree sprouting out of them. Although I do have a darling pair of slides with embroidered palm trees and golden monkeys. Say, maybe I could be in a parade.

When the shoe fits both our outfit and our feet, we girls are like a beauty queen or Cinderellawere having a ball.

Have you noticed that men tend not to be as footish? At least my hubby, Les, isnt. He owns two pairs of shoes, and he cant figure out for the life of him why he bought the second pair. When in high school, he chose to spray-paint his white bucks rather than purchase additional shoes. But he varied the hues so many times, including gold for the prom, that the shoes finally crackled like land fissures after an earthquake. So you can imagine Less confusion over why I would need severalokay, okay, more than severalpairs of shoes.

Les and I went on an Alaskan cruise recently, and he wanted to take out extra life insurance because he was certain my footwear alone would sink the ship. Men just dont get it.

Actually, I have trouble explaining it myself, but life offers such a kaleidoscope of challenges, and I love to be foot-ready so I can step out in style, whether its lunch with a friend (flats), a loop around the park (sneakers), attending a conference (heels), shuffling through the house (slippers), or dinner with Les (one of the above). So it seems reasonable to me that I need a healthy collection of footgear.

While Scripture doesnt endorse personal loans for shoe fetishes, it does address our daily walk and the importance of taking the right path. So what shall it profit a woman to be dazzling in her sequined heels only to be on the wrong side of town while the partys happening?

I appreciate assurance that Im using the right map, and I despise discovering six exits too late that I have to pivot and trod back over old territory. Unfortunately, I have to do that a lot because directions make me dizzy. Even when Im sporting the latest hiking boots, Im clueless as to which direction is southwest or northeast. I was born compassless. All the more reason to keep my holy map of Gods Word before me.

Join me now as we lift the lid on our shoe boxes, don the contents, then walk, boogie, jog, stroll, and meander through our day, securing our direction and delighting in our shoe wardrobe. Along the way we will do our best to find a good fit by aligning our heart with our footpath. Well be concentrating on the path set before us in Galatians 5:2223: But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Now thats a yellow brick road worthy to be trod upon by dazzling Dorothy shoes.

So cmon, girlfriends, slide into your favorite footwear, gather up your shoe boxes, and lets step into high fashion and toe-tapping truth in style. Show me your shoes!