Brain surgery and your new shoes

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I am three days away from brain surgery.

This whole spring has been a non-stop string of changes in my body  leaving me feeling unfamiliar in my own body. Maybe it doesn’t feel the same because I am not the same. The stroke changed so much in the way my body moves and my brain processes information. Frustration hits every time I try to do things the way I did them before. Slowly my soul is realizing I’ll never be that girl again. I can’t fit myself back into that person. 

I can’t be her anymore. The figurative shoe doesn’t fit. 

I need new shoes. 

For real, though. I literally can’t wear most of the shoes I own since I had my stroke. I am still re-learning how to walk and do stairs so only a few shoes feel stable on my feet. But this process has made me realize I need new shoes in so many areas of life. I keep trying to squeeze myself into the spaces that held me before only to realize I no longer fit in them. This made me sad for awhile but I’ve realized its an opportunity to grow. 

It’s a chance to wear bigger shoes. You need bigger shoes too.

You have probably heard about foot binding. It was an ancient Chinese practice which involved wrapping a young girls feet so tightly that they were prevented from growing. It wasn’t uncommon for the bones in the feet to break when their feet were bound. Often times severe deformities resulted, infections set in and girls even died in the process.

The confines of the shoe and the bandages created a handicap that women had to live with for the rest of their lives.

So, why am I telling you that your shoes are too small?  Because you have big shoes to fill.

Just like little kids feet, we need room to grow or we get distorted and walk with a limp. Why are our shoes too small? Because our dreams are meant to grow bigger. Life changes and shapes us...we need to upgrade. God’s destiny for your life is meant to increase and the fruit we produce is meant to be abundant. Our destiny is to grow.

If we live in the limitations, fears and comfortable places of a previous stage then we begin to get ingrown. We believe a lie that we don’t have anywhere important to go anyway. So, who cares what shoes we wear? Our dreams press against our capacity and we feel inverted and confused. We need new shoes for new seasons.

I need to be regularly putting on larger shoes anyway. Making sure that I have room to wiggle my toes and grow into them as God increases in my life. After growing and risking for a while, there won’t be room anymore. On with another pair. More room for dreaming and advancing. More capacity to run in roomy shoes.

We bind our own feet to often. We are afraid to get bigger.

“What if I walk this road alone? Id rather just wait in this place and grow into these shoes when I get married.”

” If I walk out no one will follow me. They won’t trust what I bring to the table.”

” I just got comfortable here. I don’t want anything to change.”

or the ever popular

” I’m not gifted. I don’t have anything to grow at all. I’m just meant to watch other people do the cool stuff. I observe, others participate.”

Except a funny thing happens. The tissues and fibers of who we are keep expanding anyway. Even when we try and stay in the same old shoes it begins to get uncomfortable.  Eventually we just sit down and stop going anywhere. It hurts too bad. The longer we sit the greater our disfunction grows.

And that is where a lot of us are. Sitting on a curb waiting for our feet to stop hurting. Dreams, calling, destiny, capacity… they are all pushing against the boundary begging to be let loose. Risking again on love. Risking again on pain. Risking again to breathe.

And then a fabulous thing happens.

When we are rubbing our stubby toes wondering what happened to our lives, Jesus comes. Tells us to stop being so scared. Stop being so comfortable. Stop thinking we can’t walk any further. He puts these enormous shoes before us. The shoes of Heaven that contain limitless hope and strength. We are terrified to put them on because we know we can’t fill them. Not only that, but our little feet are tiny and tangled.

We forget that Jesus is a healer. He touches deformities and they straighten. The skin and bones go back into places and the painful sores go away. He puts the too-good-to-be-true shoes on. The kind we dreamed of wearing when we were little children.

Maybe your new shoes look like a relationship. Maybe they look like a new business venture. A move to a distant land. The revival of a dream that has nearly expired. Could be letting go of a fear that has held you back and controlled you. Leaving behind an old identity for a new one perhaps.

All of us have new shoes waiting to be worn onto fresh ground. But we have to risk taking off our old shoes, healing the deformities we have and putting on bigger shoes that will support our new dreams. It can be scary, uncomfortable and oh-so insecure. But I think we can do it guys. ‘Cause we are risky like that and I believe in us.

Liz Griffin