I read a magazine article earlier this week (while brushing my teeth -yes, perhaps I take the multi-tasking thing just a wee bit too far occasionally) that has been rattling around in my brain all week. Actually, it's one sentence from the article that stuck with me. The story is about a writer who hiked the Pacific Crest Trail, alone, at the age of 26, after major upheavals in her life. The sentence (really, it's the last phrase of a lengthy sentence) is this:
...and lost six toenails to the trauma of hiking in ill-fitting boots.
Ill-fitting. I wonder how often we inflict trauma on ourselves (and others) because we're walking in something that doesn't fit: attitudes, behaviors, jobs, relationships. Something that appears at the moment to be appropriate, or at least serviceable, but that ultimately results in pain. Maybe what doesn't fit is someone else's expectation, but that you've squeezed and contorted yourself to fit. Perhaps ill-fitting describes a choice made by your younger self, but that doesn't reflect the life you'd like to live today. Sometimes it feels as though there is no other option than to put one bloody foot in front of the other and keep walking. And sometimes we keep walking in those ill-fitting boots because we think we deserve the pain for making the original choice.
Maybe it would be a good idea to take an inventory of what fits and what doesn't fit in our lives. And since our own perspectives can be really skewed, inviting the gentle, loving inspection of the One who created us, redeemed us, and restores life would be a good place to start.
Isaiah 61: 1..He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and freedom to the prisoners...
61:3 ...to give them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, festive oil instead of mourning, and splendid clothes instead of despair..."