It's been nearly ten years since I made a blog post. For much of that chunk of time I simply wrote Facebook posts with ramblings of funny/crazy/heartfelt stories and thoughts. Lately I have had more ramblings that just did not belong on that social media platform, but my brain has been itching to get these thoughts into written form. Today I had to Google search to find my old blog, which seems pretty silly. It worked, and here I am. (I did bookmark the site. Ha!) I wrote this piece the other night in bed; I should have been sleeping but I decided to peck the words out on my Notes app on my phone, like a real professional.
So, I'm going to start writing again, or maybe I won't - who knows.
One thing is certain: I am not the same person I was during my earlier blogging days. That naive girl has grown substantially over the years. But that's a blog post (or ten) of its own for another day. For now, here is my first stab at thought dumping and trying to put to words the images and feelings that bounce around inside me. Welcome - or welcome back!
When we were living in Haiti, I almost always had to keep my eyes on the ground everywhere I walked to maintain my footing. Loose rocks, trash, mud, manure, uneven ground. Constant hazards were lurking with nearly every step. A clumsy, sandal-wearing klutz like me could easily be taken to the ground with a roll of the ankle or simply end up with a foot caked in something super gross. So, with every step, I watched my feet walk in the place where God put me.
Many times as I watched my feet, I would zone out and think about how the moment that I was in would one day in the future just be a memory. It was so surreal that my feet were walking on that surface - usually a rough gravel road - in a small, impoverished country in the Caribbean. I was a stranger in what felt at times like another world. Sometimes those feet of mine were walking away from experiencing something shocking, or joyful, or resoundingly sad. Those feet were tired but continued to carry me where I needed to go next, with no promise of a break. Those feet were connected to me, a person I didn’t know I could become, doing work I never conceived that I was capable of doing. With those dusty, dirty feet, I walked into new situations that my imagination could never have predicted.
Left. Right. Careful! Left. Right.......
Fast forward. I’m a nurse working bedside at a hospital in my hometown. I wear cozy, supportive shoes. (Hokas with orthotic inserts, complimented by compression socks, of course! Ha!) The obstacles here are easier to navigate. The hallways I walk up and down are straight, level, and smooth. No dust caked in between my toes. There is no need to watch my feet take each step, but sometimes I still zone out and watch them, in awe that my feet are now here in this place, doing this work.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
Smooth strides, almost gliding over the tiled floor. In a place where I feel at home. Though everything is vastly different here, some aspects are the same - my feet are tired, there's no promise of a break, but my feet continue carrying me where I need to go.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
I walk the hospital hallways, having just experienced a situation that was shocking, or joyful, or resoundingly sad. These same feet, but now they carry me as a nurse. A real nurse! Here I am doing things that I never dreamed of. I’m capable of more than I ever thought was possible. I never know what will happen next, but I am absolutely certain that these feet will walk me into many hard situations. The amazing part is this - my steps have brought me to a place that God shaped me for. I can briefly close my eyes and feel my steady stride on my cushy sneakers as I trot down the hallway, headed to my next task. God directed my steps to this hallowed ground. I feel it with each step.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
God is ahead of me.
God is with me.
God is within me.
Just as He was in Haiti.
And with these feet, He continues to walk me through the most amazing journey I could ever ask for.
