Shoes

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I’ve never walked in the shoes of a police officer. I’ve never walked in the shoes of a black man.

Twitter and Facebook and the morning news tell me how to react, how to think, how to feel. But I’ve never walked in their shoes. So how is it possible, how is it right for me to judge the actions of a police officer or a black man?

There are so many shoes that I walk in. There are also so many shoes I don’t walk in. I’m often quick to judge, especially those whose shoes I’ve never walked in.

I’ve never walked in the shoes of a homeless person. I’ve never walked in the shoes of an addict. I’ve never walked in the shoes of a young pregnant girl facing the most difficult decision of her life. I’ve never walked in the shoes of a mama losing her baby too early. I’ve never walked in the shoes of a gay man or woman. I’ve never walked in the shoes of a police officer. I’ve never walked in the shoes of a black man.

I have walked in the shoes of indescribable grief. I’ve walked in the shoes of despair and depression. I’ve walked in the shoes of defiant sin and rebellion.

I’ve also walked in the shoes of someone loved, despite my grief, despair, depression or sin. I’ve walked in the shoes of a child of a faithful God. I’ve walked in the shoes of someone pulled up from the darkest pit into the arms of Jesus.

What do I do with all the shoes that are around me? Shoes I’ve walked in? Shoes I haven’t? Twitter and Facebook and the morning news tell me how to react, how to think, how to feel about all these shoes.

But God tells me something different. He tells me, “See the love you have received as you have walked in your shoes? See this love? Give it away. Even if the shoes are different. Even if you’ve never walked in them. Give away my love. Let me take care of the rest.”

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