Shoes

While at a graduation a few weeks back, I saw a mother wearing the same pointy-toed black flats that I have, love, abuse, and adore. I wear them all the time. At Biola it's a least weekly, but probably more like twice a week. At home it's not as much, only because I put on shoes less often. I love these shoes. They're cheap payless shoes. They're versatile--good with jeans for class, a skirt for midrags, and apparently torn up jeans for the park. They're comfy. They're cute. And I haven't seen anyone else with them.

Until the mom at graduation. And hers were in pristine, beautiful, make-me-a-little-jealous condition. Because mine are scuffed on the pointy toe. The purple sole is more gray with the dirt from my feet. There are creases all over the...material? patent?

So I've been thinking about this woman's shoes for three weeks now...

And I've finally come to the conclusion that this is life. You only get one. Life is meant to be lived and shoes are meant to be worn. If that means I wear through the toe and the bottom of my beloved black pointy-toed flats, well, that just means I used them well. And I am okay with that.