The Foot Story

Also known as the Story of The Periwinkle Crocs That Wouldn't Go Away

One day, in the course of cleaning our toy room, I dropped something heavy and spiky on my foot. I realized as I watched it hit that it didn't really hurt. Curious, I bent down and poked at my foot and realized I'd lost feeling in a portion of my foot and leg. I remembered that this was an inevitability when my auto-immune disease reached stage 2. So I called my Immunologist's office, and they made an appointment for 3 days out. They wanted to examine my foot and leg. Eek!

I immediately texted my hubby that I needed money for a pedicure even though I knew we were broke. He said no. (Hard to say yes when we don't have it.) So I tried to explain to him that a room full of doctors, some ridiculously quite handsome, would be examining my feet UP CLOSE in intimate detail. See, if you have a rare disease you get all these other doctors slipping into the room to see the freak up close. ;) He still said no. To be fair, he wasn't prepared for this spurt of vanity. The only pedicure I'd ever had was the day we got married. I'm not typically into pampering myself.

I decided to round up all of our random toiletries, and baby my feet and leg for the next three days. I scrubbed and scraped and walked around in comfy slippers for three straight days. At some point I decided to make a plan for appointment day so that my feet were at their supple best when being inspected by Dr. Handsome and all his colleagues.

Early the morning of my appointment I went to the Walmart by my house, and found some socks on sale. They were extra thick black athletic socks on sale for 72 cents for the pair. I was thrilled. All morning I lotioned my feet and kept them elevated so they wouldn't be swollen when I arrived for my appointment.

Yes, I realize at some point I began to only loosely grip reality.

When it was time to drive to my appointment I decided to lotion one last time, put on my new black socks, and don these hideous periwinkle crocs that my mother had sent me for Christmas.  I figured that the holes and airiness of the shoes would keep my feet from smelling by the time I arrived at the doctor's office. I also brought along my cutest, most expensive looking sandals with a slight heel from the back of my closet to put on once I arrived at the doctor's office.

Arriving in the large waiting room, I checked in and decided to sit in the far corner from the receptionist's desk so I could do my shoe swap. I was mad at myself when I realized I'd brought my tiny purse so I couldn't tuck away those hideous crocs that I had never before worn in public. I didn't want to appear that I'd made any effort with my feet and shoes (because how ridiculous would that be?) so I put them under my chair and covered them with a magazine from the table.

I took off one sock, and to my absolute HORROR my feet were covered in furry black ape fuzz. The new socks had shed and melded together with the lotion on my feet to create a gooey sticky layer of fur that was not to be moved.

Immediately upon my discovery the nurse called my name and brought me back to be seen. I started to get an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach, but figured time was on my side. It's a doctor's office after all. They're notoriously backed up. I figured I would wash my feet in the sink in the treatment room, and be done with it.

After the nurse checked my (unusually high) blood pressure and left the room, I ran to the sink and threw my leg up on the counter and my foot into the sink. I turned the faucet and ... nothing. Nothing came out. Panic set in.

I turned to my right, and there were little packets of alcohol wipes. I began furiously tearing them open and wiping at my foot. It was less hairy, but now stinging.

I ripped off the other sock.

A knock at the door, and in walks Dr. Handsome and three of his immaculate colleagues.

I have my foot in the sink (that doesn't work), my leg on the counter, a stack of hairy alcohol wipes, and an ape foot. I began giggling, a little hysterically. "New socks" I tried to explain.

"Ah." - Dr. ridiculously handsome.

Another knock at the door, it's the receptionist. "Mrs. Roe you left your shoes in the waiting room." "Me? No, those aren't mine." "Are you sure? They were under your seat, and the other woman in the lobby thought she saw you wearing them."

I looked longingly at my gold sandals blingy sandals (with a slight heel) as I accepted the periwinkle crocs that wouldn't go away.

I learned some valuable lessons that day.

1. Never take off your socks in public.
2. Don't be vain.
3. Most importantly, never EVER accept a pair of shoes from your mother you wouldn't want to be caught dead wearing in public.

In My Dreams

I dreamed that my friends and I were sitting in a hospital waiting room. We were uncomfortably talking about getting old, and the symptoms of our various aches and pains.

After we had been waiting for a little too long, someone entered the room and told us the hospital was on lockdown because of a security issue outside.

It was immediately apparent to me that there was some sort of hostage situation.

The day began to drag on without any of us being seen, and without being allowed to leave. Information began to leak in through social media and television that we were all in danger. We had a common enemy outside. Friends of mine were called upstairs, and never returned. People began to talk about negotiating for their lives.

I got down on my knees in desperate open prayer. Michael was there kneeling with me. God spoke to me "Get up. Flee the coming wrath."

I immediately grabbed Michael's hand, and ran to the door. I turned over my shoulder, and screamed out to my friends "didn't you hear him? We need to flee!"

Heavy flooding water began to pour over the sides of the building. I could hear the enemy on the roof raining down bullets trying to pick of those who were fleeing.

I begged and choked, sick to my stomach - "Please. Please, flee the coming wrath!" As I looked over my friends, some sat playing on their smart phones, ignoring the crushing sounds of the water. Some sat in terror, but would not move. One looked right at me and rolled her eyes.

I turned back and Michael was safely out of the waters way. I propped the door open, and ran for my life.

Then I woke up.

This was my dream two days ago, and I have struggled with whether to share it.

I am not super-spiritual. I have some doubts, and perhaps tend toward cynicism when it comes to mystical things.

However, my spirit will not leave this alone.

My children would not sleep last night, and I decided to give in and pray and ask God if he was speaking to me through my dream. I looked up "flee the coming wrath" and found these verses Matthew 3 and Luke 3.

Matthew 3  - In those days John the Baptist came, preaching in the wilderness of Judea and saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”  This is he who was spoken of through the prophet Isaiah: “A voice of one calling in the wilderness,‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.’” John’s clothes were made of camel’s hair, and he had a leather belt around his waist. His food was locusts and wild honey.  People went out to him from Jerusalem and all Judea and the whole region of the Jordan. Confessing their sins, they were baptized by him in the Jordan River. But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to where he was baptizing, he said to them: “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath? Produce fruit in keeping with repentance. And do not think you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our father.’ I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham. The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.“ I baptize you with water for repentance. But after me comes one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”

I admit I don't know exactly what this means for you, or for me. Perhaps God will speak a specific interpretation to someone, and they will share it with me. I will tell you this -

I am warning you! Flee the coming wrath! A day of judgement is coming.

I'm not telling you this because of any inherent goodness or stellar righteousness on my own part. I like, John the Baptist, am not fit to carry the sandals of Jesus.

I have been praying earnestly and desperately the last two days for God to cleanse my heart of all unrighteousness, and that I would produce fruit in keeping with repentance. I pray for all of my friends too, but of course, you have to work out your own relationship with God.

Love you.