Reader Warning: This is about Feet

As I prepared for our big anniversary trip a few weeks ago, I looked down at my feet and knew I needed to pay them a bit of attention.

I removed the old polish, shined them up with some exfoliating sugar scrub, and filed my nails, but they really needed more, they needed the tools of a professional.

I already booked an appointment for a manicure and now I considered adding on a pedicure so my feet would be fancy in flip-flops.  As quickly as that thought entered my mind, I remembered the 2007 day at the spa in lower Alabama.  My friend and I settled in our side-by-side massage chairs ready for some relaxing girl time.  The woman who was assigned my feet just couldn't contain her shock and awe of how big my feet were.  At first, I was embarrassed, ashamed that I brought my big ol feet to her foot bath. Then I felt bad for causing her more work because of all the extra inches of feet that she had to work on. Finally, all the memories of it being hard to find shoes, of people's exclamation of horror when they asked my shoe size and I answered them honestly, and the many times that I looked in the mirror at an outfit and only saw the feet of a giant in the reflection. Nope.  Not adding on a pedicure to that appointment.

I've probably had about 5 or 6 pedicures since that day in Alabama, but I can't say that I have enjoyed any of them.  I am anxious when I plop my feet into the bubbling water, I assume that the technicians speaking to each other in a foreign language are talking about how big or how gross my feet are, and I am on edge as I stare at feet that are calloused, dry and unkempt. With every minute of time that passes, I feel shame that I need so much work on these feet.  It is just easier to buy closed-toed shoes.

So as I wrapped paper towels between my toes to keep the polish from smudging by rubbing against the neighbor toes, I decided that as soon as my feet look better, once the heels are no longer dry and the callouses are rubbed down a bit, then I would schedule a pedicure. Once I have tried to fix some of the embarrassing things that are wrong, maybe the size of my feet won't be such a big deal and I can seek the help of a professional.

And per the usual way that God decides to give me a nugget of truth, a small whisper of a thought comes to me.  How many things am I trying to fix on my own before I seek the help of a professional?  

How many areas are there in my life where I am allowing my pride to keep me from admitting my struggles and seeking healing or comfort from the One who is sitting there with all the tools just waiting for me to bring my rugged feet to the spa for restoration?

If your feet are already perfect, do you need a pedicure?  If your acne is cleared up do you need a dermatologist? If your marriage is healthy do you need counseling?  If your addiction is beat do you need therapy? It is the ugly, raw, calloused, broken, tender, sad, scared, confused areas that need healing.

So I am challenging myself to be humble and seek help in the areas of my life that really need it, not just the ones that I am not ashamed of.