Brown shoes. I couldn’t get my mind off the brown shoes and pink-trimmed socks that clashed terribly with the adorable red, green, and black Christmas dress Meg was wearing.
An annoyed shudder passed down my spine as I tried to shake the thought of her shoes from my mind and focus on the words of the Christmas hymn we were singing. “O come let us adore Him, O come, let us adore Him…”
After a whirlwind last few days, I had frantically rummaged through travel bags and under piles trying to find her cute black shoes before heading out the door for church. All to no avail. I remembered on the way to our Christmas service that I had taken the shoes to grandparents’ house and forgotten them there. Grrrr.
Again, I tried shaking the thought of her clashing shoes from my mind. Did she really have to get up on stage in such an outfit? And stand in front? Maybe I could sneak away and buy her some shoes that actually matched her outfit before the kids’ performance. “O come let us adore Him, Christ the LORD!” the chorus repeated.
My mind struggled between annoyed thoughts of Meg’s brown shoes and actually paying attention to the words of the hymns and sermon. Then the complete silliness of my obsession hit me in the face.
Here I was fretting because my three-year-old’s cute brown shoes didn’t match her outfit while hearing the incredible story of God becoming man. Not in a beautiful palace, but in a dirty, noisy manger. His tiny feet were wrapped in swaddling rags, and I was annoyed that I couldn’t find the right pair of Meg’s dress shoes.
So often and so quickly I lose sight of the big picture of God’s grand story as I wallow in annoyance over something as silly as brown shoes.
“…. but Mary treasured these things in her heart…” I want to be like Mary and treasure the life of Jesus. I want to keep my eyes on things above, even when my 3-year-old can’t find shoes to match her outfit.