Bare feet

Don't you just love to go bare foot? I do. As soon as I enter my home, off come the shoes. In the summer, except when I have to travel across hot tarmac or cement, I don't wear shoes.

I remember growing up and as soon as it was warm enough outdoors to go without shoes, I did. Mom and dad encouraged it. I suppose it was a cost-saving method -- if I didn't wear shoes, they wouldn't have to replace them as often, or have them re-soled as often.

I loved walking in the grass in the morning, when it was still covered with dew. And in the evening I enjoyed walking around the block several times -- the sidewalk had cooled sufficiently that it wasn't uncomfortable to my feet.

I recall, also, that none of my friends wore shoes in the summer. We would gather to play or swing or slide down Uncle Ben's home-made slide -- which I talked about in a previous BLOG -- but not with our shoes on. Barefoot was the "chic" thing to do.

When flip-flops became popular, I tried them, but I could never get comfortable in them. Sandals were an option, but frankly, they didn't make kid sandals back then, or if they did, I never saw any child under 13 wearing them. No, it was school shoes or bare feet.

One time when I was about 22, I went into Philadelphia. Alan and I were going to the art museum for the day, and it was hot. So, when we got out of center city (past 13th & Market) I removed my shoes and walked to the art museum bare-foot. I did get stares, and a few people called me a country hick, but I didn't care. I was comfortable.

You're probably wondering why I didn't take my shoes off before we got out of center city -- well, Philadelphia had a nickname back then -- filthy-delphia -- and center city streets were full of peoples spit and other things even more gross, but once you got out on the Parkway, the streets/sidewalks were clean, and there was also grass you could walk in. I realize there could have been all kinds of vermin in the grass, but if I didn't see it, it wasn't there. When we got to the museum I put my shoes back on. Even back then, they had a "no shoes - no service" rule.

Did I get sores on my feet? Sure. Did I step on rusty nails -- actually no, I did not. Were my mom and dad concerned about my injuring my feet? I don't think so. You see, we all knew that God is control of everything. Now, don't misunderstand that. We weren't testing God to see if he would protect us. We just knew that if we were going to get a nail in our foot, it would happen with or without shoes, and I did step on a nail once, and I was wearing shoes, and it did go through the sole on the shoe, and I did have to get a tetanus shot.

If only people would trust God more for protection rather than man.