Back in the late 70s, Randy Newman wrote a controversial song called “Short People”.
Anyone who was vertically challenged was incensed by his lyrics.
I’m one of those who’ve been blessed with a lack of length. When asked, I always say I’m five feet, three inches high.
I fudge that by a quarter inch.
A dear friend used to tease me about my height. I am long waisted, shorter in the legs. Her husband was built with the same ratio. She’d say if he and I had married, our children would have been penguins.
Though I love penguins, it’s not a great picture.
There are advantages to my shortness, one of which I’m discovering during our season of pause.
Being shorter and lower to the ground, I’ve got great balance. We’ve got a steep drive and many ups and downs in the walks we’re taking now. I’m able to manage them with greater ease than my husband.
He needs a walking stick to help him keep his balance on the steep inclines.
I wouldn’t say I’m scampering up and down the mountains, but it’s rather enjoyable to do this with greater dexterity than him.
John does have many advantages with his height, which is right at six feet. He sees over things easily where I have to jump up and down to get a peek. His legs are longer, so he takes fewer steps to my many. And if I pause to gaze at something along the way and he doesn’t, I have to hustle to catch back up.
Short legs are a challenge.
I had a friend years ago who used to call me “low-slung model”, in a teasing way, but my comeback was, “I reach the ground just as well as you do.”
It’s easy to become bothered by what we are or aren’t, by what we have or lack.
Even those who seem to have it all aren’t that happy. There’s always something more they yearn for, something else that will bring them contentment. And even when the more is acquired, goal achieved, accomplishment made, there’s no end to what’s desired.
My dad used to tell us, “I complained that I had no shoes until I saw the man that had no feet.” He’d heard it throughout his life, and he used it to help us understand contentment.
We always have something to be thankful for.
Even if it’s the fact that we can take our next breath.
Jesus spoke often of the things we treasured, because what we valued most was where our hearts were anchored.
Things can’t satisfy. They give temporary gratification, but they can’t provide contentment. People can love us, but everyone will at some point let us down and disappoint us.
Jesus alone can give us the satisfaction in life we long for, because He loves us with purpose, and He promises us an eternal future.
I can be frustrated by my shortness, but longer legs will not bring me happiness.
Learning to enjoy walking in my shoes is the goal.
As long as I know I don’t walk alone.