I always wanted a pair of bright red rain boots. I never bought them. Seeing myself sporting this footwear wasn’t an image I could quite entertain.
I want to introduce you to Gossie. She is a little duckling in a picture book I read to my grandchildren. The charming illustrations and the simple story follow Gossie as she meanders around the farm in her bright red boots just because she loves them. One day her bright red boots turn up missing. She looks everywhere; she finds them, but they are on someone else’s feet. In the end, she finds her boots and a new friend.
I always wanted a pair of bright red rain boots. I never bought them. Seeing myself sporting this footwear wasn’t an image I could quite entertain.
One day a UPS package arrived on my porch from one of my daughters. Inside the package were
(You guessed it) red rain boots just like Gossie’s. The boots didn’t fit—the opening just squeezed too tight for comfort on the calf of my leg. Disappointed, I put them back in the box. A bigger size wouldn’t solve the problem, and I didn’t want a different pair because my daughter chose them for me (one pair had already been lost in the mail).
Trying them on again, I realized the top of the boot was the only problem, and I had an idea. I could carefully cut a slit in the side of the boot. The scissors lay on the table for a few days because of my what-if questions. What if I ruined my boots? What if I made them completely unwearable?
“What is the worst that can happen?” my husband asks when we are trying to decide these what-if questions. What was the worst? The boots were unwearable at the moment; if I ruined them, they would still be unwearable, but if I risked the trying, maybe I could use my bright red boots.
The thought of not wearing my boots was greater than ruining them. I took the risk and measured each one more than once. I removed small increments at a time and then tried each boot on to adjust. At last, they fit! Jigging in the kitchen, I laughed for the sheer fun of it. My boots were now tailor-made for me.
My risk-taking boots.
A more straightforward solution to the problem would have been to have my daughter return them and get another pair. Or leave them in the box. Or donate them to the local thrift store.
I am so glad I didn’t because it wasn’t about the boots, but about me having the courage to take a risk.
God always gives me visual reminders. There are times when the value and impact of a desire or dream or hope are worth taking a risk. Uncalculated and unmeasured chances are not often beneficial, but weighed risks are.
dew&Honey is a risk; however, the desire to share the good news of Jesus and to bless others is greater than the risk of embarrassment, imperfection or even failure.
What red-boot risk has the Holy Spirit been nudging you to take? Pray that He will help you to take it for his glory.
Here’s to bright red boots and new friends.