Dinosaur Shoes

Tonight, we were sitting in the kitchen after dinner.  Amanda was cleaning up the dishes (I’m going to milk my broken wing as long as I can), and I was watching Caroline dance around like a “‘rina” (her word for “ballerina”).  I had taken my shoes off and sat them on the floor in front of me.  Caroline decided she wanted to try them on.  It was the first time she’s ever done that with my shoes.

Anyway, she gets her tiny feet in my size 11 skis, and starts shuffling across the floor in them until she gets crossed up and has to sit down to reposition.  At this point, she gives her assessment of dad’s shoes:  “Dinosaur Shoes.”  I about lost it!  From the mouths of babes, indeed!  
As I watched her trying to maneuver in shoes far too large for her, I thought about how I often try to do the same thing.  How many times have I tried to fit myself into a situation that was not what I needed to be in, only to find myself in “dinosaur shoes”, shoes that are just too big for me.
Far better to put on the shoes that fit, no?  Much easier to walk in the shoes that are made for our feet than to try to fit in someone else’s.  I’ve struggled these last few years with trying to make myself fit into shoes that are not made for me.  God has created us all with individual gifts and callings, and trying to “force the wedge” (Trivial Pursuit reference just for you, Bub) never works.  I end up looking like Caroline; shuffling around in shoes far too large for me.
Of course, she looks a lot cuter than I doing it.
And, of course, there’s the times when we see someone else’s shoes and want them for ourselves, even though we’ve got a perfectly good pair on our feet.  For me, being content with the places God has put me to serve is not always easy.  I find myself being envious of another’s gifting or ministry, which is NOT a good thing.  Better to serve where you’re gifted, methinks.  
And stay out of the dinosaur shoes.
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