Meet the Author's Author

Meet the Author's Author
Live for Jesus! That's what matters! That you see the light in me and come along! :)

Saturday, June 29, 2013

Bare Feet on Gravel

I laughed half of the way home.

It had been a completely rubbish day. I should've been expecting it after the G+ Hangout OYAN prayer group starting up the night before, but somehow I keep forgetting that Satan attacks whenever we unite in spirit to draw close to the Lord, and usually (for me) in that way.

I woke up at 6am to see my Mom off, went back upstairs, set my mobile phone alarm in CASE I fell asleep, sat down and picked my laptop up. Looked up at the clock; 8:30am.

I have to leave the house at 7:30 to reach my two connecting buses. OUCH. I begin work at 9, in a city twenty to thirty minutes away by car.

....yeah.

I threw clothes on at lightning speed, brushed my teeth in ten seconds, bolted down the stairs, tried to push the dog outside for the toilet but he didn't want to go, grabbed my handbag (Mom had done my lunch the night before), the nearest pair of shoes and my birthday money to buy a ticket with, locked the door and headed for the train station.

Mom called; said she'd ring back on the train.
Rang Jess to check that she knew it was dress down, and explained.
Phoned my manager Steve and apologised profusely.

First miracle of the day; he thanked me for my honesty and said not to worry about it, just to get there as quickly as I could.

Mom rang me back on the train to inform me that one of my friends was going around backbiting me - someone I had trusted. Consequently, a lot of emotional pain.

The train was late. They had to wait for a train and a platform at New Street.

I finally got into work at 9:36.
Praise God, I could've been much later.

Except...my feet were covered in blisters. Four large blisters, one of which ballooned into doubling my toe size by home time. The shoes I had picked up were new, tight and plastic. I'd been avoiding wearing them since the last time they'd cut into my feet...and now I'd had to force myself to continue at a fast pace, through gritted teeth and exploding moans, to get to work as quick as I could.

I collapsed into my seat at work, and applied the plasters...then had to spend ten minutes searching for a phone headset that worked, ending up using my manager's.

Tears were near.

Krissy (deputy call centre manager) called me over, and asked what was wrong. Arrggghhh. The whole day. She told me not to worry about being late, as it happened to everyone, and since I was rarely to never late (getting to work on time is a matter of pride for me) just to put it behind me and carry on.

Day continues. It was a good day, surprisingly - workwise. I got 11 surveys on my own little project, although I was moved back to the main project (ESS) for the final hour and got nothing.

But God was good. As usual. People were good to me...as they usually are there. I loves my colleagues and the managers. :P

Then it came time to go home.

I wrapped up the huge balloon Jayne had bought me with the big card earlier in the week, and put the string in my handbag so it was trailing behind me.
Forced my feet into those plastic shoes, with fresh plasters/bandaids on from work.
And walked out.

About two metres down the street, I stopped, took my shoes off and put them in my handbag. No. Way. I couldn't walk in them; I was doubling over every step.

Then my sweatshirt was too hot, but could I take it off? No, cause the nearest jeans I'd snatched up that morning were two sizes too big, and I have to walk with my fists in the pockets clutching handfuls of material to hold them up. Plus the tshirt didn't meet the top of the jeans because they were so loose.

I walked around the corner, barefoot and down the road with a twisted smile. People that looked down looked away, uncertain how to take it.

It must've been a right hobo appearance. A girl with unbrushed hair and half-applied mascara, walking down the road with earbuds in, an oversized sweatshirt, jeans flapping and dragging on the floor, a huge balloon trailing wildly behind her in the wind, and bare feet scuffing determinedly along, through the puddles and the mud.

I couldn't help laughing. It had been so bad in some ways, and so blessed in others. I love doing crazy things anyway, from time to time, just to gauge people's reactions to breaking the formal code of behaviour.

I walked from work, through Birmingham, through the train station, onto the train (where this little boy leaned down to stare at my feet for several minutes), off the train, down the street and towards home.

Then I hit the gravel path.

Now those of you that walk shoed most of the time, know that bare feet are really sensitive to sharp things. Yeah...ouch. It took me a full five/ten minutes to get down a path I could walk down in two/three minutes, wincing and limping, plasters flopping off.
My feet. Hurt. And it was raining quite steadily.

Then I got home, and Mom rang. And life went back to being weird but relieving.


It was funny how few people noticed my feet. And it was also funny, because I knew the way I could distract them from noticing. If you act confident and sure of yourself, like everything is normal, you can carry off a lot of things. I looked people in the eye and smiled and talked normally; walked past the guard at the station like nothing was wrong, just flipped the cuffs on my jeans a bit lower and walked confidently.

Life is like a gravel path, and we are young barefoot children learning to walk on it. We fall. We hurt. We hurt so much. And we tip our chins back, and take the next step with a determined confident grin.
Because everyone's on a gravel path.
And everyone is so lost in the barefoot pain and trying to keep that confident stride that they don't want to notice that the charade isn't real.

So when you see someone out there doubled up hurting on a gravel path, that can't hide the pain any more, don't just walk past because you don't want to see. Put your arm around them. Hold them close.
Remind them there are bandages for the blisters, that God is there. He may not take the gravel path away, but He can and does ease the walking on it.
And never let them forget, Home is just five minutes away.

~Mademoiselle Siân