Walking through the cluttered house this morning- laundry basket on hip, bare feet dancing the gauntlet of stray toys- my eyes caught a flash of shiny. Off to the side of the room lay my shoes, where I had stepped out of them following the morning school run. On either side I could see, my three-year-old had gone and gotten her shoes from the closet and placed them next to mine. She does this from time to time and it always makes me smile – the gathering, lining up straight, the precision. Today though, there was something more… What was it I saw, stopping me mid-lego-minefield? The shining. Yes- light from the window dancing off our footwear in waiting. Both Lulu and I ended up with new shoes this week – her feet having grown a size and mine having simply worn holes through old favorites. Our shoes were purchased on different days, at different stores, but this morning catching them sitting there together I had to laugh – we both picked out shoes that sparkle. Here, a child with whom at times can appear I share very few similarities, chose sparkly shoes from Target and then two days later, her mama walked through a department store and did the same thing. Just footwear, but just enough. God’s encouragement spoken through soles and sequins. Our third babe, the one by nature who doesn’t have my eyes or wide feet, is still very much an extension of who I am, of who our family is. She is grafted in, just as we all have the opportunity to be (Romans 11:17). Grafting: a delicate, painful, stretching process of attaching one to another. A process. A stretching. An attachment. Yeah. From a couple pairs of shoes. Our girl, while she may keep heart at arm’s length in one moment, in another her tiny Ethiopian toes run to the closet, dig out shoes like mama’s; she sets them near and watches them sparkle.
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