High Heeled Echoes

clip clop
clip clop
clip clop

I remember the distinct sound of high heels on the hallway floors. The school I went to was k-12 all in  one building and I couldn't wait for the day that I was a high school girl, wearing shoes that clicked on the floor when I walked. It seemed so grown-up. My years in fifth, sixth, and seventh grade passed slowly with my constant daydream of being a heel-clicker. 

I remember the days of high school. Wearing my heels that echoed through the halls. I remember running down the hall my senior year with my friend Kelly. We both wore high heels and laughed as we ran, saying we were just like Laura Holt in our favorite TV show, Remington Steele.

I remember sometimes my heels being the only sound in the hall, drawing attention when I'd rather not.

I remember my heels clip-clopping along the Kohl's parking lot on my first day as a merchandiser with a new company. I was over confident as I marched across the street and stepped onto the curb. I felt like I looked good. Those heels accenting my black dress pants and smart jacket. 

Splat.

I fell face-first onto the sidewalk. My purse emptied, lip balm rolling across the walkway. Cars stopped and people ran up to me, "Ma'am, are you okay?" My ego was shattered, as well it should have been as it had been a little carried away. I filled my purse and took inventory of every part of me that hurt. A scraped knee, great...there goes that pair of lined pants, knee bleeding and hole in both layers of fabric. Blood trailing down my hand from where I'd landed. I limped to the service desk and asked for a Band-Aid, thankful that no one in the state I'd just moved to had a clue as to who I was. 

I remembered all of this yesterday as I mused to a friend about my loud heels as we walked through the sanctuary in her church. I walked carefully to avoid repeating the splat. I don't think it would have been quite the same though, these days I don't find my value based on my shoes*. 

These days I know my value is only found in Christ. He is what makes me worthy of anything. In myself I am rotten, there is some good but not enough to warrant me entry to heaven. Enter Jesus. He is there to wash the corners of my heart and stand before the Father saying, "This one is one of ours. She's filled with the Holy Spirit and we are alive in her." 

Every day I pray to become more like Him, keeping my personality and sense of humor but grasping the fruit of the Spirit and watching it ripen in my life. I hope you're doing the same. Cause nothing we can do can impress Him. No shoes, no confidence, nothing. 

*Don't get me wrong. I love me a pair of cute shoes. ;)