Nothing is more embarrassing than removing your shoes at the security checkpoint and seeing your big toe poking through your socks. Now I thought I chose my hole free socks this morning, maybe not. Or maybe it was the constant moving and walking during the day that it wore a hole in my sock. Another moment to just chuckle. What a week.
It was a fight to find rest and to find time to spend with Jesus. As I sit here on the Amtrak train making my way to the airport for a much needed visit “home”. I can finally breath let go of the happenings of the week behind me. Entrust my patients will be cared for over the weekend, and take some time to rest, recharge and breath.
How often do we recognize the chink in our armor? Or the hole in our socks? Maybe it’s telling us something…
How’s your armor?
How does that relate to a hole in your sock? Let’s think about the function of a sock: warmth, protection, preserves the life of a shoe ( helps to stay that horrible odor that ruins a good pair of shoes), etc. It’s basic, it’s not life threatening, but it just makes me think. What areas of my life are worn, unprotected, exposed?
Where is my foundation? Can I weather a storm? Could I maintain the pace of the week I just had, next week? If not, why not? What has to give?
If I can’t even find the time to take a look at my socks and get rid of the worn out ones, am I taking the time to take care of me? My soul? My emotions? My mind? Etc
Just some food for thought, all brought on by an unexpectedly exposed big toe.