Two minute thoughts on Grace....

Renaissance. 

A rebirth or revival. 

I think we all need these at one time or another in our lives. A new start. Second chance.  I believe these are accomplished primarily through grace.  What's that mean exactly?

"We watched the skater glide gracefully across the pond." 

No, not that kind of grace.  Although I envy that...I have so little of it in my bones. 

Grace: A favor rendered by one who need not do so.  

Maybe that's you or me or God.  Perhaps it's all of us, meshing together, holding out love and compassion and forgiveness...newness...into the bloody beaten angry past.  Taking all the power out of what has been and giving it to what's to come.  

Renaissance.  Yes please.

Peace.  

*A fitting song.  It is old school Mat Kearney...slightly reminding me of Eminem.  But with much better lyrics.  Enjoy.

 

MY Food Revolution.

I start today's post humbly.  Ever heard the saying, "I don't even know how much I don't know" ?  Or better stated:

Real knowledge is to know the extent of one's ignorance.  -Confucius

Yep, that's me today.

But we all must start somewhere, yes?

So here it is, my Food Revolution for my family...beginning with the Goal Statement:

-We are going to eat REAL FOOD.

Period.

Too simple, right?  It's anything but.   If I have learned anything over these past months of research, it's the truth that finding real food in today's world of convenience food, fast food, and diet food, is a huge...well, pain. What exactly is real food and why is it so hard to find?  I think I addressed the last part of that question yesterday- because it has been manufactured right off our grocery store shelves.  But for the first part, the answer might be a little different for everyone, so I am going to share what I have decided it means to our family.  To us:

Real Food means meat, fish, poultry, vegetables, fruits, dairy, grains, and snacks that are as unprocessed as possible, free of preservatives, unnatural additives, pesticides, antibiotics, growth hormones, high fructose corn syrup, dyes, and chemicals...if I buy something in a box, can or bag at the store, I want to be able to know the ingredients inside. 

Wow. 

I honestly just got overwhelmed at the end of typing the above.  I feel lost right now.

Whenever I have this feeling, I ask myself again why eating organic matters?  This is where I share my reservations and the deep stuff on my heart...

It seems perhaps a trivial thing to me to be so concerned about our food supply, especially when so much of the world is starving.  Is it elitist of me to demand the very best for my own family?  Or should I just be grateful to have complete access to food?   These questions might seem strange to some, but if you know me, you know these questions concern me greatly.

I am also a frugal person.  I rarely pay full price for anything and I am not a brand snob...I will pick whatever is on sale as long as quality is comparable.  I have never purchased many processed foods for our family...I honestly can't remember ever buying a box of poptarts for my girls.  You may start chucking your rocks at me now, if good mothering is weighed by the amount of sugary Breakfast things we buy for our children...it's okay, I get it.  My mom fed me Whole Wheat Total for breakfast, and I despised the stuff back then...and my mom just a little too.  American children seem to be born with an entitlement attitude towards sugar, yes? 

Back to task.

We all know organic products are more expensive, and honestly, until I did my recent research, I thought the organic branding was hogwash, employed to cause rich people spend more on everyday items...because they could.  I thought organic was all smoke and mirrors.

There it is, folks, my ignorance and shame.  Forgive me please.  I have learned differently.

My answers to my heart-ponderings are pretty simple.

Firstly, my family does deserve the very best I can give them.  If I am not going to give my best time, effort, and resources to them first, then what does the rest matter?  As Mother Teresa said so well

“What can you do to promote world peace? Go home and love your family.”

Secondly, as to the expense factor of real food eating...I can only say I will find ways to make it work within our own food budget...

And...

I believe the positive health benefits will far outweigh, in cost, the investment. 

There's the Goal Statement.  What about the specifics?  The 5 part Bullet plan which holds it all together?

Still working on that one.  I have become a ravenous researcher, avid label ingredient reader...and I even managed to hold back my tears in Wal-Mart last night when I flipped over the lovely dark brown gallon of Blue Bell Buttered Pecan Ice Cream and saw high fructose corn syrup as the third ingredient.  Sigh.

I love to cook however, and am looking forward to making many things from scratch. I am ambitious...and naive...enough to say I want to make our bread, peanut butter, and cheese myself, from scratch. 

Yes, you read that right.  Cheese. 

I could be crazy.  But it honestly seems so much simpler than the food war I wage now.  Hint: Most moms carry a lot of guilt over what we feed our families.  Do we prepare healthy meals, enduring glares and judgements from kids who just want mac-n-cheese...do we cave and purchase oreos doughnuts Fruit loops cereal bars chips pretzels soda pop...knowing these items aren't good for our children, but also realizing their peers at school bring these unhealthy non-foods to school every single day...so we cave a little.  Sometimes a lot. 

Bold statement: I am done playing Guilt-Ridden Mom in the Food "Stage Play of Life" in which the Food Industry manufacturers wage sugar, sodium and chemical war on my family.  

I am done. I am out.

I have friends already holding ground in this quest for real food, two are Melissa Arthur and Brandon Mouser.  I have already learned from them and will continue to look to them for guidance and wisdom in the future. Barbara Kingsolver's incredible book, Animal Vegetable Miracle, spoke to my heart also.  She is one of my favorite authors and her family's brave and humble declaration to end the food industry's management over their lives is endlessly inspiring to me. 

And finally, my husband.  While I was mostly tuning out his rants against the government and the food industry a year ago...forgive me, dear...he made a quiet stand against high fructose corn syrup.  Asked if the girls and I would do the same.  We complied and cut soft drinks from our diet.  Thus began the journey...

Thank you husband.  I know you requested our soda ban to protect our health.

Let the Food Revolution begin...

Peace.  

Food, glorious food.

 
When I was nine, I auditioned and earned a spot with the Roanoke College Children's Choir.  The early days were sweet, we did a Christmas concert all in German, an original Fairy Tale musical entitled, The Queen Bee, in which I was a duck, resplendent in purple gingham bonnet and apron with very yellow tights...maybe that's where my color yellow love started...but the first song I learned during my earliest professional Choir experience was from Oliver Twist.  I only recall two lines.

"Food Glorious Food!  Hot Sausage and Mustard!"

Does sound glorious, doesn't it?  Can't you hear poor, starving young Oliver's longing for nourishing food?  I can.

Warning, bold statement coming...

Here in America, as the most overfed and indulged nation on Earth, we are starving too.

Seems a contradictory notion, yes?

I've been doing research the past several months...

Sure, we have Food, Glorious Food and lots of it...packaged, processed, modified, enriched, and stuffed full of chemicals.  Sugar-fied.  But not really.  It has a taste like sugar but it's not quite that.

Because

Somewhere out in the endless corn fields of Illinois there's an ear of corn saying,

"Look, I can do a great impression of sugar cane!"

And high fructose corn syrup was born. I dare you to find a loaf of bread in your supermarket which doesn't contain the stuff unless you proactively seek it out.

Most of the food we consume here in the US can be categorized as non-food.  Our crackers, chips, poptarts, cold cereals, soft drinks...all those "low-fat" and sugar-free alternatives...are mostly just chemicals, white flour and sugar.  So much sugar in fact, most Americans consume around seventeen four-pound bags of sugar per person every year.*

During the French Revolution, the infamous "cake" Marie Antoinette wanted the starving masses to consume wasn't gonna keep them alive...and it isn't going to nourish us either.

Adding to our fake food problem is the issue of meat and potatoes. Three fourths of all the antibiotics consumed in America are stuffed into our feed-lot cows, in a pitiful attempt to keep the beasts healthy enough to pass the very low FDA inspections.  Why must antibiotics be used?  Because the cows' lovely and nourishing grasses...and fields...were taken away and replaced with modified corn feed and overcrowded, dirt feed lots, so we could get as much meat for the money as possible, regardless of the condition of the "meat".  This new way of cow life exposes our cows to malnourishment and unlivable, disease-ridden conditions.

Did you catch that?  Three fourths of all antibiotics consumed in this country go into our cows...BEFORE WE EAT THEM.  

Do we believe we are what we eat...eats?  We do in the case of breast-feeding mothers.  They must watch their diets very carefully, yes?  All the nasty things going into our food before it becomes our food doesn't just magically Poof  away when we pluck it from the grocery shelf.  Into our carts. Down in our stomachs. 

But we delude ourselves into thinking so, don't we?  I know I do.

Small, family-owned farms in this country are closing...farmers walking away from their land...at an average of 300 per week.  It's a sad statistic, yes, but why does it matter?

Because we are giving our fields over to government control, called industrial farming. Regardless of how one feels about big government, we can agree the government doesn't grow very good crops...the largest cash crop these days is modified, non-edible corn which becomes gasoline and high fructose corn syrup.  I will post a great and informative website at the end of this post, which explains this controversial subject much better than I can.

This is weighty stuff...infuriating, confusing, saddening.  For me it all boils down to a simple question:

What's a mother to do?

Specifically, what am I going to do with this information when it comes to feeding my family?

A simple question with complex parts.  But an easy answer.

We need a Food Revolution.

Yes?

Yes.

I will share the plan...my war strategy...tomorrow.  Stay tuned.  I'm pretty stoked about this one.

Peace dear readers. 


-Great website discussing the Farm Condition:
www.sustainabletable.org

*Statistic cited from:http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-505269_162-57407952/americans-consumption-of-sugar-unprecedented/


   
 

Doing all the wrong things with what we don't understand or agree with.

I was going to write about something else this morning, but my mind can't seem to get away from a few topics being discussed on facebook.

It started with this yesterday afternoon:

Go ahead and read the fine print...it's too deliciously awful to skim over.

Did you just say WOW with me?  I find myself uttering it and shaking my head...smdh, in fb-speak, ...every time my eyes get pulled back to it.

(My friend, Brandon Mouser, posted it from another friend's page...he's been sHISdh over it too.)

Then, this morning, my favorite fiction author in the entire universe...Mr Ted Dekker...threw down the following:

"We have enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another." -Jonathan Swift. It's a complicated, this thing we call "religion". But do you agree? If so, LIKE.

Hmph.

Finally...or not...because it seems to be one of those facebook days...Brandon Mouser wrote a thoughtful sharp important blog, entitled Lifeway, The Blind Side, and Narcissistic 'Pastors'.  If you follow me on facebook, you might have seen me re-post it this morning.  It is a blog addressed to Lifeway Christian Stores, over a recent issue.  You should go read it in its entirety, but I am going to post part of it here:

"Dear LifeWay,

The power of social media directed me to a story on The Christian Post about a decision you recently made to stop selling a movie called The Blind Side; a movie that you have sold in your establishment since its retail release in 2010 with no consumer complaints. That is, until Pastor Rodney L. Baker of Hopeful Baptist Church decided to petition the Southern Baptist Convention to get you to pull The Blind Side from your shelves because of the movie depicts a certain level of reality that he, apparently, just isn’t comfortable with, or because it depicts a reality that just isn’t Christian enough for his tastes.

And I get it. People using rough language, drinking, guns, gangs, drugs, poor folk, homeless folk, KFC, interracial families (by adoption), etc is definitely not a reality to which real Christians need be subjected. It’s much safer for real Christians to stay cocooned in their white, suburban, gated communities, far away from the sin and depravity of ‘those people’ on the ‘other side of the tracks’. God forbid a real Christian actually encounter this alternative reality… then they might actually have to take Jesus’ teachings seriously!"

Double wow!  Brandon, my friend, you get a standing ovation from me for those steppin on my toes, uncomfortably honest words.  

Truth:  I am all angry turmoil confusion inside right now. 

I think all of the above sums up to a sentiment held by a man I admire, one who has clearly seen how Christianity...and "Christians"...are viewed by the rest of the world.  That would be Mr Carl Medearis, former missionary to Beirut, author of several books, including Tea with Hezbollah, Sitting at the Enemies' Table...well, he's got more informal and formal titles than I could name...and he was once offered his own television show on Al Jazeera, to have the opportunity to share his faith daily.  

He says...my paraphrase of what I've heard him say many times before:

I don't like to call myself a "Christian".  Not at all. I call myself a "Christ follower".  

Oh how I agree.  I even cringe a little these days at the word "Christian".

Not that I don't love Jesus.  Or hold my faith as immeasurably precious and dear.  I do.  But as Ghandi said so well, or perhaps it was Ann Rice...who knows with misquoted quotes these days:

"I like your Christ.  I do not like your Christians.  They are so unlike your Christ."

Boom. Ouch. 

When did our religion of love get hijacked by hate?

(I bet there are Muslims across the world wondering the same thing about their own religion right now.)

And I also would wager to guess I just lost a lot of you on that last sentence.  I am sorry to see you go, but I know the price one pays for having an opinion which contradicts the status quo, and I believe there are Muslims out there who don't actually hate you or me. 

The "religion" of Christianity was founded on love...it's our whole unique deal which sets us apart from all the other religions of the world...

crazy irrational complete and all encompassing sacrificial love to the point of absolute death, love that gives all without expecting demanding brokering for anything in return...perfect love which does not demand its own way, but allows for complete acceptance or refusal of love's offer.  

Raise your hand if you have lived that way today.

Me either.

But that's the reality Christ's love calls us to...the true message of the religion of Christianity. 

Not hating avoiding belittling marginalizing judging mistreating ...afraid we are going to get sullied by the "World" if we interact with those heathen people that are going to Hell.  

Maybe I am making it too simple.  Perhaps it is foolish of me to believe Christ has full capability to deal with the sins of others...just as He deals with mine every single day...without my interference.   

When are we Christians going to stop making everything into an "Us against Them" mentality, with them being all those people out there who don't have the same faith as us.  Because I am pretty sure the only reason I am in the "us" category is because I made a choice.  Yes?

It is the same choice we Christians seem to hold out as our weapon of choice when breaking down the ranks of people in this world.  

The choice Christ died for to give us in the first place.

"For God so LOVED the world that He GAVE his only Son..."

Love freely lavishly given.  When will we learn this lesson?

I have a friend whose ex-wife once made this statement years ago:

"I never asked Jesus to die for me."

At the time I heard this, I thought it was the most horrible awful blasphemous words ever to be uttered.  I was very surprised God didn't strike her dead right on the spot...trust me, I waited for it.  But there was no clap of thunder from the heavens, no displeasing voice damning her to Hell.

Because Christ's love is not a forced thing.  It is arms wide open waiting.  Just waiting.

Our love, human small conditional cannot truly fathom a love given fully and absolutely with no guarantee of love in return.  Love which continues to give its all even when we spit in its eye.

I truly believe the best course of action for Christ followers...take your word "Christian" with all its judging hatred and go away please...is to love.

My prayer:  God, uncocoon me and show me how to love.

Because

Always love wins.

(Even if one doesn't agree with the way Rob Bell explained it.)

Peace dear readers.  

 

 

  

 

Going home.

I know what they say...you can never go home.

Perhaps.

But you sure can visit.

Our family leaves next Friday on a road trip to Virginia.  People have been asking if I'm getting excited.  Honestly, not yet.  I am always excited for a road trip...going anywhere anytime, the open road, tunes, the adventure excitement unknown...the small towns, strange trees, vast bridges and lakes...my eyes and soul devour it all.

But the preparation is a lot of work, yes?

My perspective all changed yesterday afternoon though.  My Onnie, our true Southern girl, was talking to her friend as I drove them to youth group and she was bubbling, glowing, bouncing a little in her seat...gushing about all we will do and eat when we get home. To Virginia. 

She made our hometown sound a magical Southern land, where apple butter and fried chicken fills every kitchen table, nighttime bursts with fireflies twinkling, and the weather is always perfect, be it humid rain, sweltering heat, or gentle breeze. 

Was it just the innocent and cloudless filter of childhood she was remembering through?

Perhaps.

But there was another clue in her words which pointed to the magic of home.

In every sentence out of her mouth, there were names attached- Nana, Papa Larry, PoPo, Gamgam. Papa Ron. Granny and Pa Meador, Granny Lumsden, and Grandma Hurst.  Uncle Grandle and Aunt Alice.  All my precious Aunts and Uncles, and Ron's too.  The girls' Uncle Ben and Aunt Michelle, and first cousins Luke, Gabe, Christian, and all their other cousins too...I could go on and on. 

Relationships make places and memories special, yes?

And there was more...

Laura said to Onnie, "Virginia sounds like so much fun, and with so much to do!"

Onnie paused.  Replied:

"Actually we don't really do a lot.  We hang out with family and eat.  And play outside a lot.  There are no electronics in VA- you play in the woods and take care of chickens, and pick vegetables.  And you eat really good food.  It's awesome!"

Yes, that's home...family and food, and playing and working together outdoors.  It really is that simple most of the time.  It does sound pretty awesome, doesn't it?

We are incredibly blessed with our large extended family.  I am humbled by the precious lessons they've reinforced in our girls, especially the value of contentment with the simple and free pleasures in life. 

I am not a huge Country music fan, but I feel this song sums up how we feel about the South, and about our hometown...the joy of simple things which bring deep contentment.

"Well it's funny how it's the little things in life that mean the most
Not where you live, the car you drive or the price tag on your clothes
There's no dollar sign on a piece of mind
this I've come to know."

Truth, yes?  

Honest- I think I am pretty excited to go home now.

So, whether you are traveling this Memorial Day weekend, or staying at your home, I hope you will take a few moments to ponder the simple things in your life and be thankful for them, especially family.

Peace dear readers.

Lyrics:

You know I like my chicken fried

[Chorus:]
Cold beer on a Friday night
A pair of jeans that fit just right
And the radio up
Well I've seen the sun rise
See the love in my woman's eyes
Feel the touch of a precious child
And know a mother's love

Well I was raised up beneath the shade of a Georgia Pine
And that's home you know
Sweet tea, pecan pie, and homemade wine where the peaches grow
And my house it's not much to talk about
But it's filled with love that's grown in southern ground

And a little bit of chicken fried

[Chorus]

Well it's funny how it's the little things in life that mean the most
Not where you live, the car you drive or the price tag on your clothes
There's no dollar sign on a piece of mind
this I've come to know
So if you agree, have a drink with me
Raise you glasses for a toast

To a little bit of chicken fried

[Chorus]

I thank God for my life
And for the stars and stripes
May freedom forever fly, let it ring.
Salute the ones who died
The ones that give their lives so we don't have to sacrifice
All the things we love

Like our chicken fried

*Picture resourced from http://leitesculinaria.com/tag/picnics

Castles

Thoughtful words:

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”
― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity 

As I sit here on a rainy Monday morning...my favorite kind of morning to be honest...watching the flickering flame of the lit candle on my desk...all this potential bubbling inside of me, with words, sounds and mental pictures, this quote speaks to me.

Honest:  Today I feel like a cluttered and broken down shack.  My fears, hurts and hang-ups loom large.

I have dreams inside me too but I know my limits.  A cottage sounds nice, yes?  Cozy, which is my favorite word to describe a home.

However, a palace...castle...Wow.  I imagine one on cliffs by the ocean...Prince Eric's castle in The Little Mermaid...fresh seafood every night...les poissons les poissons. 

But that seems impossible, for me anyway.  I would be glad if I evolved into a water-tight dwelling that kept the cold out. 

Hope: God doesn't have my limits.  He sees all the potential inside you and me, and says to us:

"This is quite easy for me, if you will let me."

In the book of II Kings in the Bible, three Kings and their armies were commanded by God to invade Moab.  They assembled, marched for seven days...and then they ran out of water.  Man and beast were about to die of thirst.  Needless to say, they were angry and confused...if God called them to this task, why were they going to die painfully without even attempting what they were called to do?

They found a man of God- Elisha- and asked him to inquire of the Lord.  (Back then...before Jesus...talking to God was a little more complicated.)  He did inquire of the Lord, and said they were to dig ditches all over the valley because God was going to bring water...so much water they would need the ditches to hold it all...and even more astonishingly, He was going to bring it without wind or rain.

*This is the point where you are sitting in the shack in the middle of a hurricane, about to be blown away, drown, or knocked unconscious by steel beams whistling by...and God says He's about to move you into a Castle...you have zero resources and there's no castle in sight...

Honest- those Israelites were probably thinking this was crazy talk.  Elisha finishes up this dramatic speech with a gauntlet, a challenge, a promise...

"This is easy for God to do.  He will also hand Moab over to you."

And boy, did He!  The next morning, water rushed the valley, the Moabites mistook the sun shining off the water as pools of blood and thought the three armies had slaughtered each other.  They decided to go plunder the camp and marched right into a trap. The Israelites were one hundred percent victorious.  Oh, and they weren't thirsty anymore either.

But did you catch that?  This is easy for God to do.  Turning my shack into a living castle is easy for God to do. Sure, it's going to be work...the armies had to dig the ditches in the blazing sun with wracking thirst...but it's not a hard thing for God.  I only have to be willing to work...to trust His promise, face my fears, and allow Him to beat down closed doors inside of me to build a new, strong foundation.

What would a castle feel like anyway?  Hmm...peace, joy, security, contentment...all my needs provided.  Doesn't mean an endless holiday, storms and invading armies and famine will still come.  But the walls will be strong and the resources plentiful to withstand any attack.
 
Do I want that?  In the deepest, most guarded parts of my soul...do I truly want that?
 
Yes, please.  Times a million trillion.
  
Peace...and yes, work...dear readers.



*Above image from 9wows.com

Shoeless and crazy in America.

Yesterday was One Day without Shoes, a TOMS company creation to bring awareness to children all over the world that do not have shoes, and all the health and safety hazards they face each day on bare feet.  You can learn more about this important day at onedaywithoutshoes.com.

 

My girls were all up for it yesterday so I agreed to let them go to school shoeless, bringing their shoes in the backpack with them.  I was proud of them for looking outside themselves to focus on others in need.  Overall their experiences were good...although Thunder Ridge was very resistant to barefoot students.  I understand the health code issues- I honestly do.  I told the girls to be respectful to teachers and administrators, and put their shoes back on if asked.  Surprisingly, Ainsley fared the best at her elementary school, able to keep her shoes off most of the school day and share the "One Day Without Shoes" message with many.  

But let's face it...going shoeless for one day is a smallish thing.

Or is it?

I decided to go shoeless too yesterday...wanting my girls to see they do not give or sacrifice alone...this is a family and we do things together.  I didn't ask Ron to be involved simply because he has been swamped and stressed at work.  Doubt he could do field tests without his boots either.  I digress.  I was barefoot most of yesterday and learned a lot. Sadly my observations were not as  focused on barefoot children as they were on myself and our society. 

Observation 1- No one notices what is on your feet until there is nothing on your feet.  Then every person on the planet notices your feet.

Observation 2- Apparently only mad crazy mentally unstable people walk around barefoot in America in public.  At least that is how everyone reacted to me.

I was completely unprepared for how prideful I really am.   Ouch.

But let's do a quick poll- Raise your hand if you would head to the grocery store right now without shoes on?  Completely barefoot. Would you?   Some of you might be up for it, but I know others are saying Are you insane? 

I started out small early in the day...taking a forgotten lunch box to Ains at her school.  Okay, not a big deal- Walk into the building, transverse the three steps to the attendance desk and state my request.  The attendance office is a big window so no one can see my feet anyway.  When I got out of the van and put my left foot down on the pavement I actually felt the pavement...cool uneven pebbly.  I made it to the door, pep talking myself along the way, really trying to be light carefree.  Or dedicated purposeful. 

But honestly

I felt naked.  Who knew missing shoes could make one feel like they'd left their pants at home?

Things didn't go quite as planned inside the school.  The office called for Ains to come down to get her lunchbox so I had to wait in the chairs...the ones positioned just far enough from the attendance window for one's feet to be in full view of whomever might be in the office.

I tried fiddling, reading things on the wall...I left my phone in the car...curses Why did I do that???...so couldn't even aimlessly browse Facebook or figure out better ways at losing on Words with Friends.  I was tempted to walk over to the Music Room door and stare at the orchestra sign-up posters but that would involve walking...drawing attention to my bare feet...so I stayed put.  The principal came out of her office and scowled at my feet.  Or maybe that was my overactive imagination.

Four hours later when Ainsley showed up to collect her lunch box...or it could have been four minutes...I had broken out in a sweat.

I hugged her and hightailed it out of there.

Now I know what you are thinking right now because I was too.

If this was such a stressful experience for me then why in the world was I doing it?  And what exactly is the big deal with walking around barefoot?

Well I generally like to fit in not stand out. As a writer and a female, I want my personality to be what shines more than anything else.

Having bare feet be the reason I'm standing out?? 

Shudder.

That's just me. 

As for my second question above...what's the big deal?  If you are asking that one you have clearly never gone into public barefoot.  I refer back to my poll.   

After arguing with myself and my stupid pride for five minutes sitting in the Wal-Mart parking lot I got out slammed the door and walked into the store.

With my shoes on.  Feeling like a loser quitter. Are you disappointed in me too?  Yes that is acceptable.

But then something interesting happened...

My boldness grew and my fears lessened with each step, and back in the milk section I ripped those flip flops off my feet and stuffed them in my bag.  I felt free.  I felt good.  I felt...

Naked again.

But I was determined this time.  I was gonna talk to people...I am good at that...and tell them about the important reason I was barefoot.

What I wasn't prepared for were the looks people gave me.

Fear pity anger disgust.  Like I was absolutely bat dung crazy.  Every single person I passed on that unusually busy Tuesday morning noticed my feet.  And all of them almost ran from me.

I was prepared to be approached by an employee or manager asking me to put on shoes.  That didn't actually happen. 

But I wasn't prepared to be the crazy woman.

I didn't dialogue with anyone except for the cashier and she basically told me I was stupid for not wearing shoes in public, regardless of the cause.

Such a...

crappy experience.  Just honest.

I learned I am more prideful than I realized.  Sometimes it is important to stand out make waves be the different one.  I fear that.

I also learned how much society views those differences as negative scary unapproachable.

Further I learned going barefoot is truly frightening from a health perspective...what in the world was I stepping on?  In this country we have fairly sanitary surfaces that we encounter each day.  I couldn't fathom being a child and having to walk barefoot over rocks dirt glass rotting sewage...horrific.

Bottom line- Days like yesterday help all sheltered me to sincerely grasp what others around the world face on a daily basis.  In a way I can't conjure in my mind unless I actually take my shoes off.

The takeaway- It was uncomfortable.  I am glad it was.  I wish I would have been bolder.  I am glad I did it. And I am so incredibly proud of my three girls.

Next year we will make and wear t-shirts too.   

Peace.