Barefoot Sunday

This past Sunday was one of those days that remind me of why I love Sundays so much.  And I love the community of people that make up my church... flawed, broken, loving, caring people who are not perfect, but love Christ.

It was Barefoot Sunday... an annual tradition at our church when you where your best or most favorite shoes, and leave them behind to be shipped to Liberia, Malawi, and now Haiti.  Then, you go home (or to Chipotle, in our case) barefoot.  The premise is not only to give shoes to someone who actually needs a pair of shoes, but also to experience the discomfort, and maybe even shame, of being barefooted.  We, along with some great friends, headed to Chipotle after church.  The asphalt in the parking lot was hot, it is Arizona you know.  It was every man (or child) for himself as we literally ran into the restaurant with burning feet.  It did feel a little embarrassing charging in with four adults and seven kids, all sans shoes, to a non-hillbilly dining establishment.  It probably got a little worse when I had to take Sweetpea into the ladies' room... bare feet and public restroom floors.  I'll let that sink in for all you germ-a-phobs.

Let's face it, a pair of shoes will not change some one's life when they receive them, but it is a simple act of love, of kindness, God's love.  Thousands of pairs of shoes were collected that day, and I pray that lives will be changed because of Jesus Christ, for the giver and receiver of each pair.