Walk a Mile in My Shoes?

I’ve had them several years. Custom orthotics made to specifically fit my flat feet. Sometimes I wore them, sometimes I didn’t, because switching between boots, shoes, and runners was a hassle. I finally caved and bought a second pair of orthotics to make things a bit more convenient. When the knee scope on March 30 triggered a tear in an ankle tendon, my feet needed all the support they could get, so I started wearing orthotics faithfully, inside and out. No sexy strappy summer sandals for me.

(Poor Henry, he really likes when I wear sexy shoes, but here I am, wearing sensible, supportive shoes, day in, day out. "I am strong woman," I say, flexing my biceps and speaking with a deep, thick, Slavic accent. "Musht wear shturdy shoes; goot to pull du plough.")

One day I couldn’t find the second pair. I looked high and low, in every boot, in every shoe, but the second pair had completely vanished. Sigh. Back to switching the first pair between different footwear every time I changed.

On a day when I had a number of errands to run, I was in a rush, and chose not to take time to swap the orthotics out of my gym shoes. I wore my good Clarks Wave walking shoe instead and tossed my workout shoes (with the orthotics) into the gym bag in the back of the vehicle.

One of my errands was at Costco. I didn’t think much of the beep I heard when I tossed my keys into my purse, but when I returned later to my vehicle, my heart stopped for a split second as I stood and surveyed the scene. The back hatch was sitting open (perhaps triggered by my remote key fob) and my gym bag was gone. A crime of opportunity that would yield almost no value to the thief but would cost me a great deal of money to replace. It held my swim gear, workout clothes, runners and, of course, the pricey custom orthotics. My only pair.

I ordered new ones, limped through life for the three weeks until they arrived and began swapping them out again. Snowboots are the hardest but they have become a daily requirement in Calgary since the snowfall started before Christmas. Boots are good. I often left the orthotics in them and started walking barefoot in the house again.

And enter gradually increasing foot pain to the point where, today, I was inspired to look once again for that illusive disappearing pair of orthotics I’d lost last winter. Again, I searched all the boots in the garage: hiking boots, rubber boots, old winter boots, even older Sorells, and really old (like 20 years) snowmobile boots. Remember those big white heavy padded knee high not-so-stylish-but-oh-so-warm monstronsities?

Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zip. Zero.

Then I started in on scouring the hall closet. Rain boots, Harley boots, two old pair of Clarks Wave walkers (sure fit me like a glove), two pairs of Uggs. Really? Why?

And there, then, finally, in the deep recesses of the back side of the closet behind the shoe rack, I find ONE orthotic, laying loose. Could it be?!!! Excitedly, I dig further. Eureka!!! Praise Jesus!

Rejoice with me, for I have found the matching pair which was lost!

There are so many lessons here:

• clean up the closet
• give away some shoes and boots
• don’t be too much in a rush 
• always wear proper footwear
• be careful how you handle your key fob
• listen to the still small voice prompting you to look once more…

That's all well and good, but really, this is a blog post about joy. Taking time to stop and savour this precious, simple, little gift that will make life a little more comfortable, a little less hassled. And that is worthy of gratitude.

Thanks for listening in. Do you have a "rejoice with me" story?