Tip of My Iceberg

Who knew shoes could be so definitive?

I began wearing soccer flops when my kids outgrew theirs, and I took over ownership. They were worn, but still comfortable.

When I began buying my own, I knew I was hooked. Not a fashion statement. Comfortable enough to walk miles in.

I was teased by my kids. Then by my co-workers. I’d never wear flops with a dress–but just about anything else.

The Kardashians began wearing flops. They made a fashion statement, and folks began picking up on how durable and cozy they were. If Khloe could put them on their feet, maybe they worked for more than soccer players.

I’m betting Khloe and the clan have pedicures before allowing their feet to be seen in them.

People actually comment now when I don’t wear them. As if I don’t own anything other than these flops.

I do have other shoes.

What’s funny is, while on family vacation, my son-in-law, Michael, showed up in soccer flops identical to mine.

It drove the grands crazy.

“Those are Nana’s flops.” Ryken not quite three, was convinced Michael was trying to make off with my shoes. Brooklyn, one and a half, kept pointing to Michael’s feet and saying, “Nana’s shoes.”

It’s concerning that the grands know me for my footwear.

We’ve been back for a couple of weeks, and these have been my footwear of choice. I’ve a flop tan on my feet from constant wear. Calloused toes and heels with dry skin that I pick at. All because of my shoes.

Not pretty.

My daughters groan when I show up in them. Isley informed me with sweet sincerity, “You should at least paint your toenails.”

Sydney’s new dog, Aspen, wants to eat them.

As easy and comfortable as they are to wear, I don’t want them to be what people focus on when they think of me.

I’m more than my shoes.

Like my shoes, habits and attitudes can define me. I tend to laugh a lot, and I’m loud, so I’ve had folks say, “I knew you were in the building. I heard you laughing.” That’s positive.

But it’s easy for me to fall into a critical attitude, judging others on a standard I can’t sustain myself. I’ve friends (and a husband) who are willing to say, “You’re being a little hard on them, aren’t you?” Or “Can you believe the best here?”

We become known by how we show up. How we choose to live daily. We’ve ways of stepping out that reflect the real parts of us, those things that come naturally and show who we really are.

I don’t want a negative attitude or a critical spirit to be how people think of me.

Jesus lived a pure life. Never committed a wrongful act. Even those who arrested Him and helped in beating and killing Him couldn’t find any wrong in His actions.

I’d like to be known for doing good things. Helping others consistently. Even when it’s hard or costs me.

I can’t do that without Jesus.

I want my life defined by Him.

What choices are you allowing to define you?