Rocks in My Pockets Shoe

By the end of the day yesterday, my heel felt as though I had a rock in my pocket shoe all day....a large, rugged, rough, ugly rock!



I'm not sure what caused it because I had worn flip flops all day, but a "rock stone bruise" just the same. With every step I was reminded of the pain!

Yesterday evening, my hardworking, steel toe boot wearing, world traveling husband returned home from a business trip to New Orleans...sometimes his travels take him a short distance rather than around the world...to find me complaining. I was so absorbed in my pain as I prepared a simple dinner for him that I was negligent in showing how much I appreciated the gift that he brought to me. When I saw the bag, I knew what it was, didn't even open it completely...just peeped into the top of the small velveteen pouch and sat it on the kitchen table.



I continued on with my stirring, seasoning, and steaming of an array of fresh vegetables...my favorites. We were having a vegetable plate for dinner...not what a man, especially a hardworking one, calls the best of meals...where's the beef? Did he demand that I do it his way? Not at all. Did I choose to do it his way? I really don't want to answer that!

I turned away from my busy-ness to see my sweet husband gently pouring the contents of the small velveteen pouch on the kitchen table.



I understood his thoughts as he separated and admired each stone...



and how pretty they would be in the birdbath...



He knew just what I would do with them. He saw the beauty and waited patiently for me to acknowledge and thank him for his gift.

For some reason I was reminded of the rock cross in my pocket shoe wallet that my daddy gave to me years ago as a daily reminder of God's gift.



God saw the beauty in His gift...His Son, Jesus.

God waited patiently for me to acknowledge and accept His gift.

God deserves my heart-felt thankfulness.

How often does He wait patiently for me to thank Him for His beautiful gift? Am I so busy doing work for Him my way that I neglect His will? Am I so absorbed in myself that I forget to acknowledge His presence in my life?

A rock...

A stone...

A cross...

Maybe the next time I feel as though there has been a rock in my pocket shoe, I will call it a "stone cross bruise" and thank God for His Son.

If the shoe fits, wear it well!