Skip to main content

Socks Pt. 2


Image from Tattooed Mamma's House.

I once wrote a message titled "Odd Socks". The basic premise of the message revolved around this basket of socks that had no mates anymore, and my Mom had given my sister and I free reign to do what we wanted with them. We made puppets, Barbie dresses and even tried making sock monkeys.

We had a great time with those socks, and they were something that had seemed disposable. I like to think that G-d can take the odd socks of life and make something great out of them. G-d's got a great craft closet you know.

Early one school morning last week, my son was looking for a matching set of socks. So I pulled out a basket that I'd laid some folded shirts upon and found the basket full of not-even-tried-to-match-but-plenty-of-matches-socks. I quickly matched a pair and he was on his way to a day full of seventh grade meandering.

Lately I've been feeling like I have a full basket of creative and vocational socks just sitting somewhere waiting for me to find and match them. I know they are there, but I'm just not quite sure where I left them.

It's as if I'm getting a better idea who this person is who looks back at me in the mirror and I know what she's been called to "be" in this life of odd socks and hiding sock baskets. Now all that is needed for her pieces of life to come together is some sorting, matching and folding. Mind you, this isn't my favorite part of life - but I'm becoming more and more aware of it's value.

So here's to settling in and matching the socks of my life, because you never know how much you need a matching set until there are no more in your dresser and an adventure is waiting just outside the door.

Socks matched, socks and shoes on - lets step into the next adventure.

Image from Silicon Vally Moms Blog.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

SWB: Claustrophobia and clearings

Mary Lue shared her host post on business and rest for this weeks Sleeping with Bread Examen. Her words resonated with me in the fact that due to a significant staff change at my office, there is more work to be done and my plate is feeling fuller lately. There have been more meetings, and lots of talking and planning. For the most part, I've felt much more connected to people since I've become more involved in this way, but oddly when I'm done for the day or night - I find myself in need of some quiet. Maybe I'm still sorting and planning in the back of my mind, but silence (even my own) is something I find myself being more and more drawn too. It's like the extra noise, both internal and external, makes me feel claustrophobic . A few days after Christmas, I went into a game store with my son and was overwhelmed by all the noise and activity there. The store was tiny but filled with kids and their parents vying for their video game of choice. My head felt hot, my

Sunny and rainy day friends

There are two kinds of friends in the world: Sunny day friends and rainy day friends. This is a statement that my Mom used to remind me of when I was in the midst of drama or conflict with one school friend of another. There are lots of people that we define as friends, but they are really acquaintances. Two men were out hunting in the northern U.S. Suddenly one yelled and the other looked up to see a grizzly charging them. The first started to frantically put on his tennis shoes and his friend anxiously asked, "What are you doing? Don't you know you can't outrun a grizzly bear?" "I don't have to outrun a grizzly. I just have to outrun you!" This story is funny, but it does help define the distinct difference between a rainy day friend and a sunny day friend. The sunny-day-friend is more concerned with watching out for their own health and wellness, than their friends' wellbeing. On the other hand, a rainy day friend is willing to take risks, work fo

What Summer Camp Means to Me...

  I was around six-years-old when I first went to sleep-away summer camp.  At the time I lived in PA and the camp (through my church) was in Ohio. All school year, I attended Sunday School faithfully partially because regular attendance allowed my family scholarships to help with the cost of Summer Camp. Over the school year, I attended most Sunday's and by the end of the year, my little coupon book was full of stamps - providing me with a scholarship to attend a camp session. I provide this background on how I first got to go to camp, because it is an essential part of explaining what Summer Camp meant (and means) to me.   Going away to Summer Camp gave me a whole new experience of community. The whole process of going to and attending was the first times I experienced, "it takes a village", personally. From the Sunday School Teachers who drove a sedan full of kids to Ohio, to the counselors and staff who supported new campers: through the first 48 hours of homesickness