Shoes with a Florence view!

Today my heart is happy for my daughter as her dream to study abroad came true.  Her plane touched down in Florence, Italy this morning and soon she was messaging me with delight about the amazing view from her student apartment.  Honestly I have had apprehension about sending her for four months to another land.  Our family has been through so much this past year and a half, and it has not been easy for Ali. This past weekend she asked to be a “guest writer” on my blog.  Once I read her words, I knew it was God’s way of saying yes, let her go, it’s going to be good.  Here are the precious words she penned before she left…

Within the last couple days I have finally started to pack for my 4-month semester in Italy. Yes, I waited until two days before I left; I needed the inspiration of limited time. As I have been packing I have been sorting through which shoes I will walk this new ground in. As I was zipping up my suitcase, I was unexpectedly reminded of my last visit to my childhood home where my Dad still lives. I noticed during our visit a dusty basket in the garage where my siblings and I would kick our shoes off before coming inside. In the basket were obviously shoes I had forgotten about; shoes I haven’t worn since high school. But for some reason I couldn’t get this basket of shoes out my head. I wanted them here in my Mom’s home. No, I really wanted them gone. I wondered why I cared so much and then… the Lord reminded me.

My mom has always loved the symbolism of shoes. Every time I visit home she takes a picture of my shoes next to the front door. She loves the symbolism that comes with a worn pair of sneakers being tossed off and left behind. Growing up, I loved the idea of throwing my small shoes in a basket to be collected with my brothers’ larger shoes. It made me feel part of a unit and I would look forward to the day I would grow into “big girl” shoes. I loved all of our shoes being under the same roof… I loved the memories of taking my shoes and socks off and telling my Dad about my day at school. I loved digging through the basket to find my pink flip-flops buried underneath my brother’s Chick-Fil-A work shoes. I loved running down the stairs on a Sunday morning and slipping on my black flats for church as my family “patiently” waited for me by the door.

As I pondered this dusty basket sitting in the garage of my childhood home, I realized why it bothered me so much. I hate that the feet that wore all of these shoes are in different places. We no longer flip off our flops and have a seat on the couch together. We no longer dig through the basket to find our sneakers and go to the park together. We no longer have two married parents’ shoes to walk in step with. We will never have that chance again. Having divorced parents sucks. It just does. It will never feel right because it is not supposed to. No matter how many times I try to rationalize it, I can’t, because I am not supposed to. I don’t want my shoes in that old house anymore because deep down, I want all my shoes under one roof. Those of you who have asked how I have been doing lately have probably heard me say that stepping into “adulthood” has given me some growing pains. It is easy to miss the simplicity and innocence of childhood. I feel like I know more than I would like to know. I feel like I want to go back in a lot of ways. But the Lord has been good in providing me with different but beautiful memories in my “big girl” shoes (no, not heels).

I invested in some hiking boots this past semester and climbed to the top of a mountain in Colombia. I took those boots to New Orleans and hiked a state park with my big brother. This past year some baby shoes were added to our family basket and I was beyond blessed with my nephew Parker. And just yesterday my Mom and I went to the dance store and bought a new pair of ballet shoes for my classes in Italy, a pair of shoes that have carried over from childhood. In all of these things I see the Lord and He is good. He is bigger and rawer than He was when I was younger and I LOVE Him! Oh man, I love Him so much. He is the reason I overuse exclamation points and the reason I have hope even when I feel like my shoes (AKA my life) are scattered in a million places. I am ready for this adventure because although I feel tattered, the Lord is meeting me in the place I am and the places I am going. I do not have to fear because He was with me when I was a shoe size 3 and he is with me in my size 8. These “new shoes” have been painful thus far but I know the Lord is breaking them in one step at a time.

New ballet shoes for a new adventure…