Naked Feet

Confession: I loathe and generally dispise shoes--especially in the summer months. If, for some ridiculous reason (i.e. hauling my bum down the street for some much needed exercise) I have to wear tennis shoes, it actually feels like a sin to shove my feet into them. And why is it that in the warmer months, tennis shoes always feel like they are at least one size too small? It's as though my feet expand as the earth gets closer to the sun and then shrink again as it wanders away. So today, as I pondered my flip-flop clad feet, I realized how blessed I've been to live in southern California for my whole life. I don't even have to pretend to like shoes here. I just slip into a floppie and I'm on my way. My toes can breathe while still providing protection from old chewing gum, dog poop, and anything else my feet would be destined to come into contact with if I actually boycotted shoes altogether. If my husband and I are called to ministry somewhere else...somewhere...*gulp* with weather...I'm not entirely sure what I'll do. I'll manage, I assume, but my feet just really enjoy being naked. Forcing them to wear clothes just seems, I don't know, cruel. To say the least.