Did you know that as we age, there is one part of our body guaranteed to loose weight?
Not the arms.
No, that's the part that continues to hail a cab long after the cab has already pulled to the curb.
Not the posterior.
No, that's the part that feels obligated to pad all sitting for the rest of the days of our lives and therefore collects all the extra fat available.
Not the stomach.
No, that's the all important "Nana-Roll Region." Our bodies reason that it would be unfair to short change grand babies by subjecting them to pokey ribs. "Store all necessary padding," our brains say.
But it has been scientifically proven that as we age we can count on the fact that any and all fat will most assuredly disappear from the area of.........................our feet!
For someone who has worked diligently my entire adult life to keep weight from ballooning out of control, you'd think I'd be excited to learn about guaranteed weight loss.
But I'm not!
Instead I want to look into the heavens and loudly implore, "WHY?! Of all the weighty areas you could choose, why would you choose to make us loose weight in our feet? And just at the very time of life I could USE extra padding on my poor, abused tootsies!"
Yep, that would be my question.
I alluded to this problem in a post last year when I told about discovering Mr. Clark. (My new favorite shoes that offer comfort and a bit of style.)
But General Council 2013 (the biennial gathering of all U.S. Assemblies of God ministers) was the first that I've had to face this dilemma head on.
Each year before when we've gathered with thousands of other missionaries, pastors and wives from all around the country I've used the "Ballet Shoe Shuffle" quite effectively.
What? You aren't familiar with the "Ballet Shoe Shuffle" you say?
Well, it's like this.
Many years ago I discovered that my little black Dearfoam bedroom shoes were made just like ballet slippers. They also fit perfectly into a pocket inside Frank's dress coat. Each coat he wears has a similar pocket. I think the pocket is actually designed for papers and such but I called dibs!
When we would leave our hotel and begin the hike toward the convention center, I would don the little black Dearfoams (with their handy-dandy, thin rubber sole) and walk contentedly the entire distance.
Once we hit the main artery of pastoral traffic, I'd quickly switch the Dearfoams for my high heels. Shuffling them into Frank's waiting pocket. (Sole sides together, of course! I'm thoughtful like that!)
This worked well for many hikes to and from the huge convention centers all around the country.
But not this year!
I've now hit that auspicious season of life where the scientific studies are proving true. The wonderful fatty padding for my well-used feet has almost completely disappeared.
The farthest I routinely walk in high heels now is from the car to my office. (About twenty feet.) I quickly remove them and slip on the bedroom shoes always waiting under my desk.
When it's time for service, I walk from my office to the sanctuary. (About a hundred feet.)
As soon as I can get to my spot on the front row, I slip them off and stand bare-footed until time to greet people.
The one exception to all this shoe shuffling is when I'm speaking. Somehow, the Father has seen fit to allow a special dispensation of some sort and my feet never hurt during sermons.
Now, I am well aware of my limitations. So each outfit I packed for use at General Council 2013 began with the shoes.
If Kristin (my resident fashion consultant) couldn't identify a comfortable pair of sandals, slides, wedges or flats to co-ordinate with an outfit, it didn't matter how cute it was or how skinny it made me look - it didn't make the cut!
I only have two feet. And even at 55, I'm hoping they'll transport me for many years to come. That could be thousands of miles yet.
So it has become comfort over cuteness.
And I'll continue to pamper my thinning feet. You can count on it!