My Father's Shoes

whose shoes I am not worthy to bear: Matthew 3:11 "The preaching that this world needs most is the sermons in shoes that are walking with Jesus Christ." D.L.Moody As a young child, I remember sitting in my parent’s room, watching my dad get ready for church. As a pastor, and one who felt that dressing in your best showed respect to God, he almost never went to church in anything but a coat and tie – always a suit. I would sit and watch as he picked out his clothes, running his hand along the ever growing collection of repp, paisley and woven ties until he found just the right one for that day. After the jackets, shirts and ties had been sorted through, out came the shoes. Dad’s shoes were not handmade or exotic. But Dad always kept his shoes in excellent condition; religiously polishing them to a deep, jewel like gloss. He would put his shoes on last, the final touch. He would start looking for them only to find a little boy had made away with them. When I was little sometimes I’d put on my dad’s dress shoes and clumsily walk around the house, giggling as I looked down at my feet. I always felt close to him, standing in his shoes. The shoes seemed like the largest shoes in the world to me. "How could his feet ever fill such big shoes?"my childish mind wondered,"They keep falling off my feet." After a hearty laugh at me, he snatched the shoes while tickling my feet. Smiling big I hoped to be as big as him someday. Maybe then I could wear shoes like that. It rained the whole trip to church. So I spent my time staring at rain cascading down my backseat window. My five year old thoughts considered,"What if I can't get inside the church? It sure is raining hard. I might sink in the mud and get stuck. I've done that before and walked right out of my shoes." This was just a brief thought. We had arrived. My dad quickly picked me up into his arms and headed toward the church house doors. "Oh,no it's so muddy. Surely,his shoes will get stuck in the mud,"I thought. 10 steps later we were inside. Glancing back over my shoulder,I shall never forget those footprints. They were deep into the ground, leaving a lasting mark. I saw others running and stepping in his footprints to keep from bogging down in the mud. He had been the first inside. His shoes, amazingly to me, had not come off. I asked,"How come your shoes didn't come off?" "I guess I just tied them good. I didn't have time to worry about that I had to get you in out of the weather." With no regard for the new shine he had put on his shoes and not worrying about what others thought he just reacted. Without a second thought, he did what had to be done. By doing so, he left deep foot impressions for those who chose to walk where he had. Isn't that what our Heavenly Father does for us? We so much want to wear his shoes, but until the time is right he carries us through the storm when we need it. As he carries us, if you look back over your shoulder you can see others choosing or not choosing to follow the deep footprints of our Protector. Dear Protector, Thank you for thinking of me first.Before you hung the first star in the sky, You knew my name. You knew the name of an insignificant young boy in his earthly father's arms, who needs You more than ever to carry Him. I lose my shoes alot in the mud,and I sink in the muck. Your shoes are always secure and your footprints forever leave a mark on my heart.

Amen. by Lance Gargus