Dirty Shoes

I remember the car accident that caused us to flip a few times. I was pregnant with your sister and you were sitting in the back seat unsecured. Thrown through the windshield I was knocked unconscious. I felt a little hand trying to pull me up out of the briers. I was going in and out of consciousness. Touching what felt like water fall down my forehead, I opened my eyes and saw the blood. I also saw you, my little seven year old running to the street to get help. After this I passed out completely.

In the hospital, I remember waking in the emergency room asking for you. Is she okay, I frantically asked? And there you were. I touched your face and asked were you hurt. You said, “Mommy, only my shoes are dirty. I cried and thanked God for dirty shoes. You’ve recently gone through something that was very hard for you to talk to me about. You thought you didn’t portray the woman that you felt I raised you to be. You felt I’d be disappointed. I was disappointed, I admit. But what God reminded me of is that the current situation is no different from the car accident. He told me, which I in turn told you. “Baby, she only got her shoes dirty. She still has her life.” We both cried.

This is the testimony of a Christian. At times we get our shoes dirty, our way becomes contaminated with wrong thinking, but God is gracious because we still have a life to make it right.

I want to celebrate Alexis Denise Allen. Not because it’s some special kind of day or because she’s done some spectacular thing that saved an entire continent. I celebrate her because of who she is. She’s a very special, intelligent, beautiful, wise and blessed woman that just so happens to be my oldest daughter. Sometimes we wrap our arms around our children so tight to give them love, protection and to console them when they’re heart is sore. But I remember a time when she had to protect and console me. She had to help me when I couldn’t help myself. It’s no wonder that her name means helper of mankind.

I love you First-love!

Mommy

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