Skip to main content

Blue Suede Shoes

I have a pair of blue-fake-suede shoes.  They’re 9-years-old.  They’re still in my closet.  No, I’m not a hoarder; there’s a reason I still have these shoes.  These shoes represent part of what I love the most about my husband.  He makes me have fun.  He makes me put aside the ultra-responsible Angie that sometimes appears.  He makes me stop—stop cleaning, stop rushing, stop talking, stop working, stop fretting—stop missing out on some of the best parts of life.
On a Friday afternoon in the fall of 2002, I drove for two hours and fifteen minutes from my college to his, Virginia Tech.  I’d remembered to pack my Shakespeare book.  I’d forgotten to pack comfortable shoes.  This shows my priorities. 
I was a senior English major taking the required senior-level Shakespeare course.   We had to read a Shakespeare play a week.  When you were a high school freshman, you probably spent an entire nine weeks on Romeo and Juliet.   You probably spent four weeks on a Mid-summer Night’s Dream or Hamlet as a sophomore, and maybe four weeks on Othello as a senior.  I was reading one of those each week, while hearing lectures and essays on the play I’d read the previous week.  It was great mental exercise, and it was hard.  Of course, I was also in a few other senior-level English courses at the time, including my all-time favorite—Romantic Poetry and Prose (although Victorian British novels is a close second). 
I knew that a road trip to Tech for the weekend would have to include some Shakespeare.  I’d forgotten that it was going to involve my first hike to the Cascades, an infamous weekend outing amongst the college crowd.  So, I went to Payless (college budget) and bought these shoes. 
I vividly remember sitting on my then-boyfriend’s futon reading Shakespeare while he napped, after giving up on my napping, too.  There was just no time for that!  I also vividly remember when he kinda made me put down Shakespeare, put on the newly-purchased shoes, and go for a relaxing, scenic drive, and then a romantic, scenic hike to the Cascades.
I am grateful.  I am grateful that he is still the man who says, “Go through the Starbucks drive-thru and get the tall white chocolate mocha already!”  It’s a frivolous, unnecessary purchase.  It makes life (and waistbands) thicker.  My husband wants me to enjoy life…and its indulgences… 
…except right now.  Right now we’re doing that personal finance program I wrote about in my last blog.  That means there’s no money for Starbucks runs or other little indulgences.  I know my husband still wants to give me everything I need and lots that I want.  But he cannot right now.  I’m sure he misses it.  I do, too. 


Popular posts from this blog

A Response to Charlottesville

Visiting our nation’s capital is an easy day trip for us, and how I chose to spend a precious vacation day this week.  I took pride in explaining the buildings and icons of my country to my children.  I am proud to be an American.  

But today, I am not proud.  
Today, I weep.

Four days ago, I saw the beautiful, infamous words “We the People” with my own eyes for the first time.  
Four days later, I am reminded of how far we still have to go to fully live into those words:
We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.

What has happened 63 miles from my home, in Jefferson’s beautifully-domed, colonnaded city, is far from perfect, just, or tranquil.
This is not what our founding fathers wanted for our country, nor is …

A Message to Graduates

I have been a Pastor to Students (The title has changed numerous times; the role remains.) in Powhatan, Virginia for roughly 12 years.  I daresay I've been ministering to teenagers in this community longer than many.

Over the last dozen years, I've gotten lots of cool opportunities to minister to teenagers in this area.   But one had always eluded me--speaking at a baccalaureate service.  My husband had done the honors.  Other great pastors in the area had as well.  Once, I'd offered the closing prayer.  

This week, that changed.  I had the distinct honor to share with the PHS Class of 2016 at their baccalaureate service.  It was a wonderful experience working with great students, parents, and school leaders.  I'm so grateful for the opportunity!!!

A few people missed it and have asked to see what I said, so here it is, ALL of it:

June 1999 I sat in this space for my Baccalaureate service.  Before I was a pastor at PCC, before I moved back to Powhatan to raise my family, …

Disillusionment of Adulthood

Now that I’m in my 30’s, I must confess to disillusionment.  Growing up, I had ideas of what adulthood would be like.  I’m here, and it’s not entirely what I’d imagined.
For starters, I remember growing up amidst all the drama that comes with, well, growing up.  The gossip.  The hurt feelings.  The misunderstandings.  The fights between friends.  The back-stabbing.  And I remember being told that it would get better.  I’m not sure who told me that, but they were clearly wrong.
The drama may look a little different.  The words may sound a little different.  But the anguish of relationships remains.
Adults hurt each other’s feelings—intentionally and unintentionally. Adults nitpick and cause fights over inconsequential issues. Adults gossip. Adults cry, scream, and pitch fits. Adults build relational alliances, competing in “us vs. them” relational war. Adults let issues build and exponentially swell until they explode. Adults rarely identify the actual issue instead of the presenting issue. Adul…