If you knew me well, you’d know that I love to buy shoes.   I believe my love for shoes stems from having to wear my mother’s oversized boots as a kid in the winter; because we were too poor to buy my own.  I remember the days that I was laughed at because of the boots that I wore, and saying to myself: “when I get older, I’m gonna buy myself lots of shoes!”

Today, if you’d look in my garage, you’d find just that… lots of shoes in all colors and styles; for I dare not ever throw a pair of shoes away! 

However, as I sit writing this, I’m reflecting back on that when I couldn’t find my favorite running shoes, so to the garage I went and WULLAH… there was a pair of shoes on my shelf that appeared brand new, so I put them on and off I went!

As I walked downhill for about 3 miles or so, I wondered why I hadn’t worn these shoes before; they looked and felt great on my feet.  In walking back home though, I didn’t think the same.  Apparently, the shoes that appeared new and were very comfortable began to fall apart piece by piece as I walked.  I assumed that the pressure from my bodyweight combined with the heat from the pavement, caused my very old dry-rotted shoes – YES DRY-ROTTED SHOES-  to disintegrate!

As I reflect upon that day, I still laugh.  Yet, in deeper reflection, I can’t help but ask myself – and you may ask yourself – if my love for God might be in the same dry-rotted condition as my shoes were.  Meaning, that though I love Him, I only go to Him when I need Him.