I LOVE LOVE LOVE what I do and my man is thrilled I can do it and get paid.  I would much prefer spending time in God’s Word and time in DeDe’s Calendar World planning for the next season than even sleep.  And even though we are in the midst of Vacation Bible School and Summer Mini Camps, I can’t wait to begin setting fall plans on the church calendar in ink.

Yet, in the midst of all life’s flurry hurry, I need to put on the brakes and put on some house shoes.  I used to think it was my age, but have learned through experience that it is healthy to follow each season of jet-plane activity with a transition season of shuffling through the house in some house shoes.

Time to rest, time to sabbath, time to be still.

I typically mark these times to be patient on my handy-dandy calendar for August and January.  Time to be patient with myself and others.  Not my in-the-zone, over-caffeinated, can’t sleep right now, frantically searching for that blue post-it-note that had the exact thing I am looking for to finish the details on the next thing.  Time to patiently wait for God’s direction for the next season.

I used to take a DAWG Day every 6  weeks.  A DAWG Day is a Day Alone With God.  A day with no electronics, no tv, no movie, no music, no sound except nature, no housework and time in the Word.    On one DAWG Day, a precious friend took me on a 7-mile hike around Red Top Mountain:  she walked in one direction and I in another holding a scripture scrawled on a scrap piece of paper.  Sometimes I’d take an 8-week bible study and take two DAWG days to go through it.  I have Cynthia Heald’s “Becoming a Woman Who Loves” on the shelf right now calling my name.

For some reason, when I had little ones running through the house, I wore my house shoes of patience more often.  Maybe I took greater advantage of every no-school day, holiday week, and snow day to put on my house shoes and just share life with the ones most important to me.  I knew that time was fleeting and the time would come when the house would be quiet for longer stretches.  Let me confess here and now that in the furry of trying to prove myself to a new congregation I have not been as faithful to taking my DAWG Days over the last year and a half.

So as I purchase that new school year calendar from Staples and put on my house shoes in August, I will intentionally schedule DAWG Days just like I do everything else.  We were made for community, yet we require rest to practice patience with ourselves and with others.  My house shoes of patience are a pair of gray TOMS purchased at last fall’s Catalyst Conference.  Printed in white all over the fabric?  “Carpe Diem”

Psalm 23:2  He leadeth me beside still waters, He restoreth my soul.

Boots are our attempt at expecting the worst, but hoping for the best.

I became a fan of boots during our stint in New England, but I think it was because I could find a pair that fit.  From my father’s side of the family, I inherited some fabulous traits and one not-so-good one:  My calves begin at my heels.  No ankles and thick calves make for a very uncomfortable season when snow is on the ground and ice is likely beneath it, thus requiring a good pair of boots with some serious traction.

Frankly, under that beautiful white stuff, I really didn’t know what was beneath it.  But I trusted a great pair of boots would keep me upright and steady.  I recall one time in particular when I chose not to wear my boots to retrieve something from the car.  The memory/photo in my mind resembles a cartoon character with her feet and dress up over her head as she moves in slow motion up and then down…well, you get the picture.

Trust is an open invitation for peace.  Peace gives us the courage to face life with sanity and dignity.

Over the last couple of years, I have put on my boots of peace expecting the worse, but hoping for the best.  As I watch my Mother-in-Law struggle through multiple knee and hip replacements, when will my parts begin wearing out?  Will #1 Son marry someone who will be nice to me when she has to take me to the multiple doctor appointments and will she want to do lunch, too?  Where will the Lord call #2 Son and Baby Girl to be in ministry after they finish their schooling?  Will Mr. Yummy only know me as Mimi in a box through Skype?  Will my man find contentment in his vocation no matter where it takes us?  Will all those years of Dave-Ramsey-financial-planning sustain us as the economy takes it toll on so many?  I only have a handful of kids pre-registered for an event…is the event a God-thing or a me-thing?

What are the questions that bring you to the Word of God that provides peace? The peace that fit like a good pair of boots giving you the courage and traction to face life with sanity and dignity?

John 14:27 Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

When #1 Son graduated from high school and embarked on a summer of discovery among a challenging drum and bugle corps, our home got very quiet very quick. As a percussionist, our home was always filled with noise, music, and the sounds of youth. I felt such joy for my children as they began to dance to their own beat. But the empty nest became too quiet for this Mama to bear.

I never cried so much in my life. But wasn’t this a joyous time? It was supposed to be. But somewhere in the midst of my celebrating their remarkable seasons and dancing before the LORD with them, I had forgotten how to dance before the Lord without them.

I had always wanted to learn how to tap dance. I even looked into it that lonely summer. But the thought of my size 11 wides sounding more like a car backfiring caused me to think otherwise.

I wanted so badly to keep dancing for joy, but couldn’t muster the courage to dance on my own. How do you keep dancing when your regular dancing partners have changed studios?

I decided to step out and embrace life with other courageous women doing the very same thing.  And I got a Stephen Minister.  This beautiful woman of faith challenged me to read Psalm 119 three times a day.  And we shared a season of Dolly Parton’s famous words from Steel Magnolias, “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion.”  I was also part of a small group of women who met at a fellow empty-nester’s home as we shared stories, laughed our heads off, and shared life among the chips and dip.

Women in the midst of crisis and tragedy have taught me that life’s dance of joy can be done in the shadows as well as the sunshine. Dancing with tears is OK, as long as I keep on dancing before the Lord…in gratitude, in hope, in honor, in worship.

Have the strength and interest to press past the loneliness, past the disease, past the crisis, past the tragedy, and past the loss to fellowship with others.  The scriptures record joy and tears in tandem.

When I spent a season painfully transitioning in ministry, I remembered my need to dance before the LORD.  And I remembered the strength I gained from the fellowship of other women.  When I would have rather stayed in bed, I planned something to do with someone who loved me and who I loved every single day.  I gleaned from their dancing until I could dance on my own again.  And I danced through the psalms.

Psalm 30:5b  “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”

When was the last time you had to keep on dancing?

I was invited to speak at the ladies gathering this month at the church where I serve. I am always honored to get a chance to spend time with these saints of the church. Whenever I am in their presence, I pray that some of their holiness rubs off on me just by breathing their air.

I was inspired by Patsy Clairmont’s little book on how the Fruit of the Spirit can be related to the shoes we wear. Being a woman who wears a size 11 wide, I don’t have the closet full of shoes that my more moderate and normal footed friends have. My shoes don’t fit on a traditional shoe tree, and I typically shop not by “That’s shoe’s cute,” but rather “What are my size 11 wide options?”

On 9/15/87 I gave my life to Jesus when Baby Girl was born. I accepted Jesus as my Savior on 3/18/71, but didn’t choose to make Him Lord of my life until the moment I held her in my arms and thought, “Oh My! He gave this up for me.”

On Good Friday, I became a Mimi and my Baby Girl became a mother. During one of those first late nights, she would tell me, “He (Mr. Yummy) filled a hole I didn’t even know was there. He changed my body and changed my heart.”

We have embarked on a SEASON OF NEW LOVE: a new child, a new honey, Jesus newly presented, a new neighbor, a new friend-in-the-Lord, a new job, a new ministry, a new experience of Jesus’ presence, a new bible verse that seems written especially for you, a new season of VBS, a new summer of wonder.

Babies born in the South do not wear shoes unless it’s winter.  Bare baby feet are out and open.  Bare baby feet remind me of new love. When we get to plan for “do overs” and “restarts” and “new beginnings.”

When was the last time you experienced “new love?”