No matter how much I encouraged and explained, it became quite obvious...she was going to wear flip flops to the neighbor's house. Socks or no socks, one size too big, Hello Kitty embossed...they were her method of transportation this morning.
Oh I could have insisted...I could have played the mom card, picked the battle, emerged victorious amongst a myriad of tears and protests. But I chose to let it go.
As I watched her stumble across the driveway and into the grass, barely staying upright, I kind of wanted to shout, "I told you so!"
But I didn't. Instead, something clicked and I muffled a giggle.
She turned and shouted, "Do I look funny!?" I smiled and encouraged her, "No! You look great."
And she did.
She made, not the wisest choice, but the one she thought best. She'll learn...maybe next time she'll choose different shoes, remembering her difficult trek across the yard. Or maybe she'll choose the same shoes and walk it a little taller, having gained the experience.
I have to think our Father looks at us the same way occasionally. We moan and complain. We demand to have things our way, try it this way...just this one time. While our choices aren't always the wisest, they also aren't always directly in defiance of our Savior. So, occasionally, I think He chooses to let it go.
Maybe He picks His battles, too.
And as we walk through our season of life, draped in our clunky, ill-informed choices, perhaps he stifles the desire to whisper it into our souls, "I told you so."
Maybe He just lets us walk. Let's us stumble and even fall. He giggles (this I'm sure of) as we fumble along...and as we become uncertain, we turn and ask, "Do I look funny?"
"No," He says. "You look great."
Perhaps He gives us this autonomy, this freedom to stumble around in shoes that don't fit, so that we can choose more wisely next time. Or maybe He lets us muddle through, knowing that eventually we'll learn how to walk in whatever shoes present themselves.
Maybe the point is that we keep walking...keep moving forward. Refusing to stand still. No matter the less-than-ideal choices we've made.
But maybe...quite possibly...I'm taking analogies too far these days.
Perhaps it's just a four year old in flip flops...golden hair blowing as she puts one foot in front of another, learning to walk in a world unstable.
