Dearly beloved–let us beware! There is a Shoe Salesman among us!
So I work in a shoe store. Quiet, and unpretentious, I do little more than get the boxes off the top shelf, match mates up from our back storage room, and ring up sales. Tada! That is about it. Recently however, thanks to two specific events, I have realized that there might be more spiritually involved matters at work in my mild mannered day job. Perhaps I should explain.
The first event happened a short time ago, just about an hour before closing. The day had been like many others. A slow but steady stream of customers had paraded through the store making average sized purchases–leaving the day quite unremarkable. The last hour and a half before closing is when the store undoubtedly becomes busy. Everyone, having had time to go home from work, eat a bite, yell at the husband and/or kids (and most likely the dog or cat) change clothes, hit the stores to try and “relax with some shopping.” Truthfully, there isn’t much to do in Shelbyville, Indiana after 6:30 p.m… so that does send people to the stores.
On this night however, the usual rush of people had not begun. In fact, the store had been entirely too empty. “Eh–” I thought to myself, “Probably a carnival is going on or something. If they haven’t arrived yet, it’s going to be a long hour and a half till closing.”
Just about then the door opened and a quiet, cluster of Amish teen girls, all drab in their muted home-stitched dresses and dark bonnets, entered the store. Like a coven, bound by solemn secrets best left alone, they moved as one through the aisles, barely acknowledging my cheerful “Hello” with the faintest of nods.
I usually let the customers browse a bit before asking if they need any assistance. With these girls, I thought that perhaps I might just need to leave well enough alone. What sort of remorseful prayers might they need to utter for having a conversation with a blatantly bald-headed heathen such as myself? Let’s not forget I have an ear pierced. I am sure that puts me with at least both feet firmly planted in Hades.
Minutes dragged by, and the Grunge Navy, Farmer Brown, Dull-Black cluster had disappeared into the farthest corner of the store. Suddenly, I heard a small faint sound that was remarkably like a giggle. “Surely not!” I thought to myself, “they can’t be actually having fun!” Then there was another. It was joined by a few more, and slightly louder this time.
Then I glanced around the store and realized–there were no adults there. Amish or not, teenagers are teenagers. An idea began to form, and I quietly began to make my way towards the back–careful to not be seen in any of the mirrors that we have all over the store. I reached the end of the aisle, and paused. Yes–teenage girls were having a good time around the corner, and this I had to see.
Stepping around the corner I loudly asked “Can I help you ladies find anything?” Before me was a scene I hope to remember to my dying day. These girls were trying on SHOES! Not the sensible all black Nikes® with soles so thick they would last from now till these girls had raised three kids. Patent leather sling-backs, candy red six-inch heels, and sequined open-toed kitty pumps all were being reveled in as only a girlish heart can enjoy.
It was their faces, though, that caught me. Happy, laughing, silly, but mostly… free. They immediately changed to shock, surprise, and oh-so-embarrassed. Their jaws seemed to hit the floor in unison. One of them managed to mumble a “We are fine thank you,” while whipping the strappy black heels from her feet and into a box as though nothing happening in the aisle was worth noting. I nodded my head and went back to the front. Moments later a few Amish boys, and several mothers entered the store. The group looked around, purchased a few remarkably sensible shoes, and left into the evening without hardly speaking to each other.
I felt a strange mixture of joy and sadness. Joy in that, no matter how we are raised, people are people–kids are kids–and fun is still fun. The sadness was due to the fact that those girls were so bound by tradition they were ashamed to do what any teenage girl would do without thinking twice. Fearful lest they “be caught” for displaying worldliness. I wanted to yell after them “I love Jesus too! It’s okay to enjoy these things. You won’t go to hell for wearing colors–OR HEELS!” I didn’t though. I knew better. Still, I wanted to make it up to them somehow.
Shortly after that, on a blazing afternoon, a few “holiness” girls came in. Now to be fair, I do not know what their religious affiliation is–I call a certain look “holiness,” and you know who I mean. The kind that the ladies either have curly, permed hair that flows down past their waist, bouncing when they walk, or piled high in a bun as though to point their souls to God. Denim, khaki, or some other dignified skirt plunging down to cover all but just their toes, and their faces–do you ever notice that when they walk they are always pointed down? It’s as if they are so enveloped in their humility that they cannot lift their eyes except when they are being directly spoken to!
I realize I just painted an unfair caricature … still, you get the point of who I am talking about. At any rate, two sisters came into the store. They politely declined my assistance and began to shop for themselves. There is one remarkable thing about this type of women–they have no fear of heels. The higher the better it seems. I have never been certain if it was because the length of their skirts forced them to wear them, or if they feel it makes them closer to God.
The “holy” sisters stood for some time looking at the tennis shoes. I made a guess at what they would select: the Reebok® in a pale gray and demure pink. Soft and lady-like, this model has the perfect support for kickball with the youth group and the comfort for long prayer walks. Do I know how to sell shoes or what? Imagine then my shock as they (without looking me in the face mind you) each brought up a pair Levi’s®! These canvas shoes with tattoo inspired decals were a staple for any rocker chick. The Ed Hardy®-esque graphics were bold, swirling, and colorful, almost demanding you grab a mic and scream to head-banging crowds before you!
They took their purchases, and with a demure, “Thank you have a nice day,” left the store. I watched them walk across the parking lot, their eyes contritely pointing down to the pavement, and I realized–the only part of those shoes that would be seen was the white rubber toes peaking out from their denim skirts. The others couldn’t see them, but the girls knew they were there!
I felt–elated! Overjoyed! Ecstatic! I helped bring some freedom! Suddenly I wanted to go on a mission: Freedom of shoe choice to all repressed people!
Okay, let me make this point: It’s not that I am actually interested in corrupting young people from the teachings of their faith. I am not personally promoting the idea that teenage daughters should rebel against the authorities in their lives. Nor am I trying to feed worldliness to God-fearing hearts.
I have simply found so much freedom and peace in my life that I want to share it with all the bent, piously twisted, repressed-from-the-simple-joys-of-life people. I want them to fully know that, while those stilettos might torture your feet, your soul will not be tortured for wearing them! Chains come in all sizes and materials, but none are more entangling than those of misplaced legality of religious traditions.
Christ came to set us free–and with it comes an interesting fact: Shoes, like many things, are simply going to burn to dust one day. They will not last for long–no matter how much you love and care for them. Our attention SHOULD be on the One who makes all things, leading and guiding us closer to Him. If, along your journey, you feel like strapping on rainbow-colored Chuck Taylors®, that is just a detail that you can thank God for the simple little pleasure of enjoying.
Having said that, beware, all you letter-of-the-law-enforcing-people: if your daughters come into my store and I see that certain gleam in their eye when they look at a shoe, I will be happy to point out that it is on sale.
I read the last sentence: "Having said that, beware all you letter-of-the-law-enforcing-people: if your daughters come into my store and I see that certain gleam in their eye when they look at a shoe? I will be happy to point out that it is on sale."
And then immediately the "disclaimer":
"All articles on this site reflect the views of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the views of other Recovering Grace contributors or the leadership of the site."
Good luck on your crusade, Seth ;)
ah, that was said with a snicker. I guess it didn't show up!
Love it!!!! :)
Too funny, Seth! Loved your story. You hit it right on the head!
I once had a conversation with a friend who told me the Spirit had convicted her about wearing sandals, or any shoes with open toes, because they were immodest. I remember wondering, "And what about my toes would possibly cause a man to lust? Especially when I am wearing the most conservative, granny-style sandals that Payless carries?" Legalism has two daughters, "Give, Give!" they cry.
Seth: Love this! As a "recovering" ATI mom, I really appreciate your story. After some friends laid hands on me and prayed for healing for my feet (plantar fasciitis, and it worked!), I love wearing fun shoes, and they, too, represent freedom from legalism to me. Bring on the Steve Maddens--and the Carlos'! I, too, mean absolutely *no* disrespect to the convictions of other dear brothers and sisters in Christ. My precious 27-year-old daughter wears the same shoe size and share the same taste with me, and it was fun for my future son-in-law to watch us discuss who got "custody" of which shoes when she married and moved away. This is a small thing, I guess, but it's huge, because it symbolizes freedom to me.
About 4 years ago, I made the decision to buy more shoes that I would, in the future, look at pictures of myself wearing and shake my head. And I love it! One of the best decisions I've ever made to break out of the "sensible and subdued" lifestyle I grew up in. I now have a stunning collection of super fun shoes (most of them bought on sale)and for me, they are absolutely a reflection of the new freedom I've found in Jesus! :)
Thanks for sharing this story. It's charming and insightful and reflects a truth about being made in the image of God: we all delight in beautiful things!
God created me to go barefoot....
But if you wanna wear shoes..by all means wear shoes lol. Growing up my subdued shoes had nothing to do with ATI and everything to do with the fact I hated shoes. I'm glad my parents weren't as strict as some that i'm reading..I feel honestly really bad.
Shooooooeeeeessss! Love 'em. Great article.
Love this article, and your heart! I might make a suggestion, the 'holiness' girls you referred to, with their heads pointing down (as opposed to looking the world in the eye with confidence), for teen girls, usually it's more to do with the insecurity that legalism brings mixed up with a certain portion of spiritual pride.. At least, that has been my observation. My 2 cents..
It is so wonderful to be made in the image of God and yet each of us is a unique creation like snowflakes! No two alike yet all are identified as snowflakes...!! Too bad religion is so intent on melting us all down into a pool of murky water that you cannot tell who is who!
I would never be accepted by Mr. Bill for anything except maybe as a prime example on how not to be! I love horses (own 2) rescue lost cats and dogs (when they show up or I find them beside the road! And we have (horrors!) 11 cats, some (gasp!) inside the house, 2 dogs, and worst of all, NO children (never wanted any!) I teach art in middle school, also create art, to sell and give away as directed by God. My husband since 1975 is a couch potato deluxe who loves sci fi and computers! I would not want anybody to be like us. Nor does God, because He wants you to be who He made YOU to be!
Isn't it interesting how God does not repeat Himself? Here are a few examples of the many One-Time-Only Wonders....There was only one Abraham who by faith believed God's promise to make him a nation (and he had only one son from Sarah), only one Moses who led the Israelites out of Egypt and witnessed the one and only parting of the Red Sea, only one Noah who rode out the flood with all the animals on the one and only ark, just one David who using only one stone, brought down a giant. And one Mary who was visited by the one Holy Spirit to become pregnant with the one and only Jesus who proclaims that He is the only One by whom salvation can be had. None of them attended any Gothard seminars and large home-taught families was their only way of life because there was no birth-control or schools. Nor were there cars nor electric lights back then but we use them now without feeling sinful (except the Amish). And God has made only one YOU and one ME...an incredible distinct personality found lost and wandering that He will gather up, rework, paint and frame into one amazing masterpiece! And that masterpiece will look like no other (ok, twins, even you have differences!)
And thank God there is only One Mr. Bill!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!