Beautiful Feet

A couple nights ago, I noticed Drummer Boy had something on the soles of his feet.

Somethings.

Actually, it looked like a bunch of freckles.

"What are these?" I asked him.

"Oh, probably some prickles I walked in from the yard."

(I love his use of probably. More often than not, he uses this word when he knows exactly why.)

"You stepped in prickles today?" I continued.

"No, the other day I think," he answered nonchalantly.

I felt like the world's worst mom for:

a) only noticing days later my son had prickles imbedded so far into his foot that the skin was actually smooth to the touch,

b) what now needed to take place as a result of the aformentioned maternal negligence.

The following pictures show Biker Man's surgical prowess.

I cringe even now looking at them.

But it got me to thinking.

Sometimes in my walk with God, I walk where I shouldn't, following my own wisdom, and not the Holy Spirit's leading.

In the process, I get sidetracked, Walking where I shouldn't.

Junk gets stuck in my feet, and remains there until I stop and tell God about it and ask Him to remove it.

Only He can.

Then I can walk unhindered and in obedience to bring His Good News to those He sends me to.

Then I'll have beautiful feet.

How beautiful on the mountains
are the feet of those who bring good news,
who proclaim peace,
who bring good tidings,
who proclaim salvation,
who say to Zion,
“Your God reigns!”

Isaiah 52:7