Flip Flops

 I was about 7 when I made a startling discovery. It was the first day of summer, and of course, summer meant doing everything barefoot, or almost barefoot. My best friend came over to play, wearing flip flops, and it was then that I noticed that her big toe was her biggest toe. But my second toe was long and skinny, and almost a toenail longer than my big toe. I started noticing other kids’ toes and no one had toes like mine, no second toe sticking out ahead of the big toe. I was so embarrassed. I tried to hide my feet at pool parties, staying in the pool as long as I could, not wanting to get out and leave my incriminating long second toe-d footprints all over the concrete. I hid my feet at slumber parties, because even with socks, my second toe just peeped out ahead of my big toe. I avoided sandals as much as possible, but if I had to wear them, then I would bend the tip of my second toe down or squish it up somehow, so it could be level with my big toe. 

I am not sure why I found my long second toe so horrifying. I suppose it just made me different, and I was already so different. I wanted to blend in, but as the only Vietnamese kid in most of my circles back then, I always stuck out. 

Later, of course, I would meet many people with longer second toes, and I would learn in anatomy and physiology class that it is just a variant of normal. At some point in my life, probably in college, I stopped caring about what my feet looked like, which is good, because now that I am a runner, my feet have gone from being merely unattractive to gruesome.

Feet are actually incredibly important to our bodies. They bear our body weight, provide balance, absorb shock, and adapt when other parts of our bodies are misaligned. Our toes, even funny long second toes, are incredibly important in keeping us balanced, and give us thrust when walking and running. 

So silly to be embarrassed about a long second toe, when I had normally functioning, strong, healthy feet. 

So silly to be embarrassed about so many things. 

I was so focused on unimportant things that I became ungrateful for the important things. 

I pray daily—moment by moment—that I can focus on what is important and not dwell on silly things, that I can discern between the two, that I can stay close to God, because, like my beautiful, hideous feet, He bears my weight, provides balance, absorbs shock, and helps me adapt when the events of my life leave me misaligned. 

"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path." Psalm 119:105