Simple socks

This needs to be a productive week. My list isn't horribly long or incredibly overwhelming, but needless to say, there are things that need to be done. I think I even feel this more so because we did absolutely NOTHING on Saturday, and I mean nothing. We didn't get out of our pajamas until late in the afternoon when we showered and put on lounge clothes to pick up take-out for dinner and rent a movie. We sat around, talked, planned, napped, talked, spent some time visualizing and dreaming, ate, sat around, you get the idea.

Days like that would normally drive me completely bananas. I thrive on being productive and I'm horrible at relaxing but we both said to each other, "This time next year we'll be begging for a day like this." So soak it in we did.

In all of that sitting around in house clothes it made me realize one of my favorite small pleasures in life. I love a pair of new socks. The white is so bright and the soles are not yet telling the imperfect tale of your tile floor or that you sometimes walk into the garage without slipping on shoes. They are perfection. There is just something about slipping clean relaxed feet into the soft, unworn cotton of new socks. Especially the ones with the added cushioning on the bottom and the little bit of extra elastic that hugs the arch of your foot making them feel extra nice. New socks always feel as though they were tailor fit for me, and I love that.

All to quickly they become stretched, dingy, and often mis-matched, but still in far too good condition to be thrown away. So we wear them around the house, to work, or to the gym, but we often put on our nice socks if we think someone might see them, or keep our shoes on if we know holes hide just beneath the surface. This makes me think of what I often do with God. I let myself become ashamed and embarrassed of my stains and the way I have allowed the world to wear me down and stretch my cotton thin. I want to hide my dull color or disguise it as purposeful beige. For a long time that was me, purposeful beige. I had failures, baggage, fears, and disappointments that took away from the luster I told myself was required. I didn't let it completely stop me, like I said, this beige was purposeful, but it wasn't my all, it wasn't my best, and it's not all He had for me.

Psalm 23:1-3 says it better than I ever could:

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures,

he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul.

He guides me in paths of righteousness

for his name's sake.

It's a well quoted scrpiture and I'm still learning exactly what it means, but I try my best to follow my Shepherd. Not in a sheepish, frightened, passive sort of way . . . but as one wise enough (who has learned the hard way) to follow the One who will lead me in the right places and right ways. He knows the "green pastures" and "quiet waters" that will restore me, and restore me He did. He bleached my beige and cushioned my soul . . . get it, like the "sole" of my sock, but I said "soul". Okay, maybe it wasn't that clever. Regardless, he continually renews me and guides me when I listen and although I'm often not the best listener, He has made these old socks new while keeping the exact same product. I think it's pretty neat.

If I had lots of money, I think it would be fun to only wear new socks and experience daily this small simple pleasure. But that's just it I guess, if I did it everyday it wouldn't be all that it is to me now.