I wore the shoes. Cute, black heels. No socks. I don’t like socks. I was determined that if I was going down that I was going to do it looking good. These shoes are one of the most vivid things that I remember from this day last year. I can hear the clicking as I walked on the stone path. The sliding door to get inside. Sitting in a chair with my legs crossed. My jeans fell just short enough that you could tell I wasn’t wearing socks. I even later made a comment about how at least my shoes were cute.
In many ways, I clung to them. I stared at them. The tears fell when my eyes stared at them. They were my statement: “I am still a person.” Unlike the mascara that didn’t work to keep my tears from flowing, they kept me feeling a small bit of life and steadiness and feeling beautiful. I don’t remember the reactions. I don’t remember my exact words. But, oh I remember those shoes. I confessed sin in those shoes. I stood before a community and exposed my heart.
Beating wildly, my heart lay on the floor. Ready to be stomped on and discarded. They didn’t. Instead, many of those faces freed their own hearts from the seeping blackness that gets in the way of new life. They shared too. We bared our hearts to find freedom in the truth and expose the lies. It was beautiful. The body of Christ. Vulnerability turned into intimacy. I left the night with a glimmer of hope. Hope that these hearts would walk together toward Christ. All the while, clinging to the promise: God works all things out for good. God works all things out for good. God works all things out for good. God works all things out for good.
And so, here I stand, exactly a year later. I stand wearing those same shoes. I don’t wear them to camp out in the past. I wear them to remind me of all that God has done and will do.
I stand in the newness of life. A different woman. A woman who no longer needs shoes to say: “I am still a person.” I stand as a woman who wears the crown of forgiveness and who is called lovely by her Beloved. I am His. He delights in me.
Confession is powerful. This day last year was the event, the game changer. The trajectory of my life changed. But, now, I stand knowing that healing, wholeness, and transformation need to be fought for every. single. day. There is no quick fix or magical pill. Life doesn’t have a pause button for you to get your stuff together and then come back.
No, even today, I need to make the choice. To choose to live as who God says I am. To continually dig my roots deep into Him and Him alone. To be vulnerable and held accountable by the Body. To get back up when I stumble again because I do fall still. To let others walk with me. To keep on choosing it. To keep on pressing on and digging deep. Why? Because that’s where the abundant life in Christ becomes real and I am free. That’s where *knowing* God becomes more than just words. Besides…
Truth always wins out.
“now is the time to step from the dark into the light. cause you can’t change what you’ve done. but you can choose who you’ll become. and every moment is a second chance at starting over. move from the past to the present tense. you can start over again. you don’t have to be who you’ve been. you can change within. it’s never too late.” -starting over by addison road
*if this stirred your heart and you don’t quite want to leave a comment. i would love to hear from you. firstname.lastname@example.org