Pride Goeth Before....

Well, we all know what pride goeth before. When the winter fashions first came out in Walmart, I fell in love with a pair of boots the first time it crossed my checkout. They were beautiful black lace up snow boots with grey "fur" trim around the top. So cute, and just what I needed for winter. They were also $50 bucks, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't convince myself to spend that much on a pair of shoes, so I had to make do with my thrift store work-horse boots, warm, but plain.

All winter I waited, eagerly charting the price, praying about it, and waiting for the day when they would go on clearance. They stubbornly held onto full-price through the season and didn't budge until January when they finally dropped to $25. Unfortunately, that was right when I got really, REALLY poor and could no longer convince myself to spend $25 on a pair of shoes.

Well, last week I went down to Williston and found that all the winter boots were now on deep clearance, and a whole rack of my beloved boots in just my size was now on clearance for $12.50! As Samuel said when looking for the next king of Israel to anoint with oil, "Surely the anointed of the Lord is before me." I carried my boots home, triumphant and thankful that God cared enough about the little things to get me my favorite pair of boots at a price I could afford.

But, if you know your Bible, you know that the person Samuel thought was the anointed of the Lord in that story was not the one God had in mind. And I found out that my beautiful boots had one fatal flaw (literally!). They are slick as a greased pig on the bottom. I have fallen on the ice twice since I got them after not falling once all winter.

The first time was right outside the church. I slid out of the van, dressed in all my Sabbath finery and kept right on sliding all the way to the ground, landing solidly on my hip. I had parked on a smooth frozen puddle left over from the thaw two weeks ago, but it had dusted snow since then, nicely camouflaging that little death trap.

The second time was the next Sabbath afternoon, after the girls and I got back from our weekly visit to my house with all the town dogs. The two girls boiled out of the car, but paused in the driveway to talk to Damon. I swept past, calling over my shoulder, "You girls are LOSERS (my pet name for them when they are particularly good)." As the words left my mouth my feet hit a patch of ice and slid forward. I landed on my right hand, jamming my wrist and elbow, but I'm thankful I didn't break anything! The girls were good and asked if I was OK before dissolving into hysterical laughter.

I've come to the conclusion that if I'd gotten my fashionable boots at the beginning of winter when I wanted them, I would have broken my neck by now. I've also had a reminder that it is often the plainer things in life, like my thrift store work boots, that actually have the most value to us. I'm still thankful God worked it out for me to get my special boots because they make me very happy, but I now realize they are for decorative situations ONLY.