As I sit in a doctor's office, I can't help but notice all of these other ladies' cute shoes.
Some are wedges, some are flats, some are tattered.
And then I think "I wonder if those are indicative of who they are. Who I am?"
And then I think...probably not.
The lady to my left is bald.
The lady in front of me has her hubby with her. She looks like a baby herself. Very obviously having her first. So cute. So young. So much ahead.
Today, my prayers are consumed with Mason as he continues to try up find his place, and balancing life, studies, and just college in general. I find myself praying more.
Yet, I have a friend with her daughter at college. She's struggling too. With chemo. And adding treatments to her schedule.
And another friend, well...she never got to pray for her son in college. He died too soon.
All 3 of our struggles are real. We all wear cute shoes.
Scott's been working out of town. A lot.
No.
Like A.L.O.T!!
It changes the dynamics of our at-home life. And makes my role a little more challenging.
But I have another friend, her hubby is unemployed. Not by choice.
And another, hers is stationed overseas. Defending our country.
And another, she will never kiss him goodnight again. He died too soon.
And another, he decided the grass was greener.
All of our struggles are real.
We all wear cute shoes.
As much as I want to be a runner, I'm just not.
Not right now. I'm a walker. And until they figure out what's going on. I'm just gonna be a walker. Period. But I'm thankful for the walking.
I have a friend training for a marathon, and getting the miles in are hard. But she wants it. Bad. I love seeing her posts as she train. She presses on. Days are hard. Miles are long.
And another friend that some days is just thankful to get out of bed. Walking is certainly not even an option.
All of our struggles are real.
We all wear cute shoes.
So as I sit here consumed with my own life, I try not to discount the struggles of my friends.
Your marriage, your work situation, your cancer, your pregnancy, your miscarriage, your divorce, or your dreadful migraine.
All of our struggles are real. In our own lives.
But I guess it's important that we notice when our sister is hurting. Better yet, that we just check in and say hi. She shouldn't have to ask. Just know that I care. I'm an ear, if you feel like sharing.
Even if she has on cute shoes, in disguise.
I won't judge you by your cute shoes, if you don't judge me by mine.
Deal?!
