I like polished shoes. Footwear shining fresh from cloth and brush. Coincidentally, I like to polish shoes. Apply the cream that rejuvenates the leather. Brush the pig-bristles across the entirety, until you can almost see your own smile in the results.
It is fortunate that I like doing this chore, as for the majority of my life there has been a shortage of “shoeshine” men here in the rural Ozarks. Were a few in the “big city” when I visited there in my youth. A time or two, I even had the funds to indulge myself. Once, I even got to sit-up high as a pair of vintage-era Acme boots were brought to a high gloss.
I also like making the bed in the morning. Long before Navy Seal Willaim McCraven’s book of similar title, I found that small task did indeed provide a feeling of accomplishment that set one up for success for the rest of the day. Brings order and structure into one’s coming challenges.
Order and structure that is often sorely lacking in other aspects of our lives. Though, not as chaotic as social and commercial media would perhaps have us believe, our lives are full of challenges and disorder. Some are of our own doing, no doubt. But trials still. And some are simply the inevitable and uncalculatable consequences of being alive.
It is meeting these tribulations, and even the less imposing irritations, that makes up much of our daily routines. Drives our agendas mentally and physically; takes their toll emotionally. Leaves us euphoric through success; delivers angst and even depression via defeats.
Last week, I mentioned a young man, a cousin, struggling with some challenges. I have several young people in my life fighting demons of various shapes and form. Seems most of my older friends have either got life figured out or maybe just given up and are suffering in silence.
I try not to give advice. Just make observations and provide direction. A common trait among many of our young, and not so young, struggling is they feel they have no purpose in life. Some are still seeking to “find themselves.” Others, disillusioned by paths that had not led where they had hoped.
Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw believed “Life is not about finding yourself. It is about creating yourself.” Holocaust survivor and philosopher Viktor Frankl thought, “Life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose.” Mark Twain proposed, “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”
Well, there are days I still speculate on the “Why?” for myself. Of course, there are days I forget for sure when that first event, my own birthday, took place. I figured out long ago several things I surely was not called to do. Or at least, things I was not willing to work hard enough at which to excel.
Basketball. Never could dunk. Three-point line didn’t exist, so my outside shooting wasn’t enough. Bull-riding. Got thrown and stomped. A lot. Writer. Well, haven’t given up on that one yet.
Entertainer? I enjoy telling stories; making people laugh. At the least; smile. I enjoy telling people about our culture. About our history. And about our God.
We all have purpose; especially those of us that believe. We have been “…created to do good work.” “…called according to His purpose.” Purposes that “…will stand.”
Each day, we need to get up rested and organized and put our best foot forward. Preferably in a newly-shined shoe.
