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?

As the years rage on

A friend used this phrase tonight as we were discussing the benefits of a hot tub after skiing. "Seems to be more of a necessity as the years rage on."

Yes, it seems the years are raging. Life is raging by at breakneck speed and it seems there would be much value in learning to take time to quiet my heart.

Mark Buchannan has written a book called The Rest of God: Restoring Your Soul by Restoring Sabbath and will be conducting a conference here later in February. I would love to go.

But this is the irony: can I afford the time?

We've made much progress on getting boxes unpacked and the house in order, but that was with the easy stuff: the daily necessities. Now comes the choices about what can be purged, donated, trashed, and what needs to be kept, even though it is not often used.

Years ago I came across a great list. Once I locate it, I'll share it with you because the new year is barely begun and some of you are looking for more space. Decluttering is one way to find it. If you need help convincing yourself of the necessity, read a few articles on http://www.flylady.net/. She'll help clear you mind about clearing the clutter.

Stinkin' Thinkin'

The other day my hubby said "My, you're in a good mood."

I was in a good mood. I was trying to eliminate stinkin' thinkin' and change my negative thought patterns into postive ones. I had been responding positively and keeping my lip zipped about anything that might be irritating. What was sad was that I realized that being in a good mood for me must be so rare that B felt it was noteworthy enough to comment about.

One of the reasons for my good mood was, of course, the peace and satisfaction that routines have brought to my life (see flylady.net for details). Remembering to check my calendar has saved me from missing appointments, the "Where is your laundry" reminders helped me get A's gym clothes to him just in time for school, the reminder to bless my body and get moving has resulted in 15 lbs lost without even trying and I could go on. I haven't been at this for very long, but what a change! The bed is made every day (before I always thought - why bother?) and the sink and kitchen are tidied every night. I can now say that my very reachable goal most days is to not have any chores left for B to do when he gets home - he can just relax.

The second reason for my good mood is that I am finding great surprise and delight in being domestic. I worked for most of 30 years and just quit my job in July to take better care of myself and my family. We were living (or rather I should say we were dying) on take out food because of our lack of planning. I am 47 years old and have never used real garlic or ginger root. This past week, I bought my first garlic press and used it to make rave pork chops. I loved it - unbelievably delicious! A said it was the best meal I have ever made and would I please make it again - and often. I realized I have rarely made meals before that I really enjoyed. I have been so inspired by the encouragement from Flylady about menu planning and shopping from a list. I have started planning and preparing meals (at every meal, A thanks God for "the really great meal mom made" when he says grace), I have begun baking again (I took three years of home ec in high school). Homemade muffins, apple pie, the worlds easiest pull apart cinny buns. The house always smells so good with wonderful food and goodies on the go. I've even started helping out in our large church, making pizza dough for 15 large pizzas every week for youth night and cinnamon buns they sell in their coffee shop. Working for myself and my family pays better than any employer EVER could and the planning and resulting lack of waste saves me huge money.

But the main reason I was in a good mood was that I have begun to declutter my thoughts about my relationship with B. We will "celebrate" 25 years of marriage this coming summer. I used to say we would "acknowledge" or "commemmorate" 25 years because I didn't think there was much to celebrate. B isn't perfect but I was spending all my time and emotional energy focused on the parts where he didn't quite measure up. I was obsessing on him, ignoring the things I could, should and needed to change in myself. I was miserable, resentful and short tempered most of the time. And if momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. I kept praying for God to change my husband and got angry with God for "this man you gave me." The thing is, B is a really good guy, a great provider, a hard worker, a dedicated dad and a great balance to my personality. He's 96% everything I ever wanted. But the other 4% was blinding me so that I couldn't see the treasure I had. That stinkin' thinkin' was a bad habit - a destructive, insidious eroder of vows.

Then a friend commented about Dr. Laura Schlessinger's book: "The Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands." I thought it was such a funny title, I dropped by the local library and picked up a copy to read at my leisure. Well, did I get my doors blown off. I couldn't put it down. Talk about changing your stinkin' thinkin' about what's "wrong" with your spouse. It's kind of a "No Whining" rule. It's straightforward. It points out where my thinking has been poisoned by destructive thought patterns, false assumptions and egocentric self-satisfaction. I dare any woman to read it cover to cover with an open mind and not have her attitude change!!!!

The bottom line is, the start was a paradym shift in my thinking (spurred by Flylady.net). When we start to develop even one small little new habit, it starts a chain reaction that gets my mind focusing on the positives - what I can change - instead of nattering at B and A about what they need to change. I control my world and I set the tone. Not only is my family more at peace, the Proverbs say: when my conduct is what it should be, even my enemies will live in peace with me. And then everybody's happy. Especially me.

Live a Quiet Life

"Make it your aim to live a quiet life, mind your own business, working with your hands." I Thes. 4:11

My goal for the new life I'm shaping by not working - rather - by not being employed to work on priorities of others instead of my own.

There's a freedom in knowing that if you just keep going, eventually you will get to the end. Of the task. Of the pile. Of the plowed field. Of the road. The last dish. The last clean socks paired and put away.

Along the journey, since I've begun following my own to-do list, I've made space by unloading some baggage. Gifts to Sally Ann and Citidump. Hand-me-downs to appreciative friends. Donations to shelter and camp.

It was a treasure trove. I found the preschool and ECS class photos I'd given up for lost. The grade one report card. The original large birth certificate for my only son. Years of love wrapped up in misspelled mother's day cards. Priceless items buried under mounds of "I thought it was important at the time" and "I'll sort through that tomorrow."

Who'da thunk that insomnia could have such side effects? Trade sleeplessness for decluttering and voila! I'm memories richers and boxes lighter.

Thanks to S for sharing her blog and giving me a place to vent, rant and politely pontificate.