Ugly Shoes

Dr. Smith starts every class with a metaphor.

If I were following her lead and starting class tonight, then tonight’s metaphor would be my shoes.

I would place my shoes in front of the class and ask everyone to come up with the metaphor.

After a few moments of silence, everyone would start sharing their thoughts. I would be grateful for the thoughts and celebrate each insight, but the insight that I would most want to hear would be something like this:

If you don’t regularly care for your shoes, then they will dry out, crack, and end up looking and feeling rough and being difficult to restore. The same goes for your body and spirit.

Something I don’t talk about a lot is the fact that I pray for my shoes when I buy them. I pray that God will use them to help me bless the places I go and the people I see while wearing them. I also pray that God will honor the money I’ve spent because I hate spending money on myself—yet I believe in wearing quality shoes because I’m on my feet so much.

I bought these particular shoes over a decade ago. I’ve worn them a lot—though I only have one specific memory of wearing them before today: Spray painting rhythm sticks silver for Harnett Off Broadway while working at Erwin Elementary. I don’t remember which year’s performance needed those sticks, but I remember having on these shoes because they got showered with spray paint residue and subsequently sparkled for a long time afterward. I was not impressed.

What I will remember about wearing these shoes today is this: One of my coworkers looked at my feet at the end of the day and said, “Deaton! Those shoes look rough! They must have been through a lot.”

Since it’s Thursday, I could have easily answered yes. I have often left school on Thursdays feeling like I would quit if given the opportunity. My patience and energy have been sucked out of me and I have been left feeling rough. But today, contrary to the appearance of my shoes, I didn’t feel that way. I was tired, yes. My weeks are long. But I felt okay.

Tonight, when I got home, somewhat embarrassed by the declaration about my shoes but moreso glad to have a few hours at home before bedtime, I polished my shoes. I decided to change their reality.

A couple of weeks ago, after a particularly rough Thursday, I decided to change my reality. I decided that I had to shift my spirit lest I constantly be in a state of cracked ugliness—especially on Thursday afternoons.

Shoe polish helped my shoes. Prayer, deep breathing, picking my battles, accepting my boundaries, and calling on the name of Jesus helped my spirit.

Are my shoes now back in perfect condition? No. Are my Thursdays now wonderful? No. But both are better because both have been tended to.

I think I’ll try to tend more often and more intentionally. And I think I’ll keep my eyes open for more metaphors. I think it will make Dr. Smith proud.

Defining Moments: The Birkenstock

It was my sophomore year of high school, 1992.
My brother was a freshman at NC State.
His childhood best friend, Heath, was too.
I suppose it was at college that Heath found Birkenstocks?
A large, urban college is much different than small, rural Tabor City where we grew up.
Or it could have been a fad of the times?
Either way, it was Heath who introduced me to the Birkenstock,
And it was Heath who let me know that imitation Birkenstocks don’t come close to the real thing.

I got my first pair of real Birkenstocks at the beginning of my junior year, 1993.
I had moved to a new school in a new town and I wanted some new shoes.
My new school had a no strapless shoe rule, so I had to get shoes with a back strap.
I chose a classic Birkenstock design,
Three strap sandals, brown leather, wide foot-bed with heel cup, raised arch, and toe grip, size 38.
I wore that pair of sandals almost every day of my junior and senior years of high school.
When it was hot, I wore them with no shoes.
When it was cold, I wore them with socks.
I had no idea that I was setting up my foot to become so used to the Birkenstock foot-bed that it would be difficult to ever find any other comfortable shoes.

Since buying that first pair of Birkenstocks (thank you, Mom and Dad),
I have purchased many others.
I may despise buying clothes for myself,
But I will pay for a good pair of shoes—
Even if most people think they are ugly—
And I will pray that God will use them for good things.

Wearing shoes in which my feet feel free is important to me.
My feet hold me up.
They carry me.
They make it possible for me to do the things I desire to do—
The biggest of which is to love those around me.

…How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation…

I still have my original pair of Birkenstocks.
They’re well-worn and may soon fall apart if I don’t take them to be repaired.
(I plan to take them to be repaired.)
They carry in them many years of life and memories…
To which the beginning my tenth year of teaching was added tonight
As I stood in the hallway and greeted hundreds of students and parents while wearing
My first pair of Birkenstocks, now 21-years-old.