Walking in Heels

I have a love-hate relationship with high heels.

I love that they make my legs look longer.
I love that they look classy and elegant.
I absolutely hate that they don't go well with stairs.

In fact, because of this relationship, I used to keep an extra pair of flats in my car whenever I would help take offering at the church I attend.  Every Sunday, I knew that there was a 25% chance I would get picked to help with the balcony pick up.

And the balcony meant stairs.

I always had my flats because in my mind, I saw the whole scene play out…

Bills flying…. coins clashing ….people watching…all as I tumble down the stairs.

Basically, I should have been taller.

Actually, I almost passed out because of heels.

My cousin was getting married and asked me to do the scripture reading in front of everyone. Being that I was on TV and did a little broadcasting work, I thought it would be no big deal.

I was wrong.
Dead wrong.
My mom gave me some relaxing drops from Whole Foods. They did absolutely nothing.
The idea of walking up to the front in heels, while everyone starred, left me shaking uncontrollably.
I managed to get through it "pass out free", but vowed to never do it again.

This past Sunday I was confronted with heels and stairs again.

 

I grabbed my normal seat in the balcony and instantly noticed a Communion table down the stairs.
I instantly thought to myself "I really wish they would have told me about Communion last week because I wouldn't have worn these heels today".
When it was my time to go down the stairs and go to the table, I carefully looked at every step, slowed my pace down, and held on for dear life to the rail.

I picked up my piece of bread, quickly dipped it in the grape juice and ate it.
When I went back to my seat, I noticed that everyone still had their piece of bread in their hands.
I thought, "Oh my gosh, was I supposed to have waited? Ok, I'm going to put my head down, cover my face and act like I am praying when they all take theirs so they won't notice that I already took mine.”

Seriously, this is my mind.

As I write this, I hear my roommate say “JAR”. (We have a Schmidt New Girl running joke. Every time I have a negative or completely ridiculous comment, she says “JAR”)

I instantly thought back to my Communion experience this past Christmas at my brother's church.

They pass the Communion around from pew to pew.
I was actually excited because I didn't even have to worry about stairs.
So I pick up my bread piece that was in a small plastic container and wait for the grape juice to come around.
The only problem was that it never came.
The pastor was reading through the Bible and going through the ceremony when I felt my face become hot. When he got to the wine part, I frantically searched down the row to see where the grape juice tray was.  
Apparently, the juice was on the same tray as the bread was… and I had missed it.

Dang. Dang, Dang.

I was mortified.
I felt like all eyes were on me (this wasn’t the case but it felt like it).
How do I take Communion without the grape juice?
People will notice that I only took the bread….they are going to think I've never been in church before…I wonder what they will ask my brother, "Does your sister know who Jesus is?"
Again, welcome to my mind.

I can honestly say I am not good at walking down stairs in heels. I look like a baby giraffe on stilts.

I am not good with finite math.
I’m also not good at eyeliner. Q-tips have been my best friend since middle school.

As I was reflecting back on these different experiences yesterday, I felt myself tell Jesus, "I'm not good with this faith thing".

Not that I don't have any, because I do.
I'm not good with having blind faith.
The kind of faith that believes before it sees.
The kind of faith that trusts absolutely.
The "jump off the cliff, throw down the towel, full cards in" type of faith.

"Jesus,"I say again "I'm not good at this stuff".

And it's ok.

It's ok if I fall head first the next time I wear heels.
It's ok if I screw up Communion.
It's ok if I want to keep a pair of emergency flats.
And it’s ok if I am not good at this faith stuff.

Thank goodness God doesn't give us a grade when we get to Heaven because mine would be super low, like, finite college math low.

I think God would rather me come to Him and say, "I'm not good at this stuff" than act like I can do it all on my own.

I think God would rather me come to Him and say, "You've got to help me because I'm a mess" than act like I have it all together.

So, if you're not good at this faith stuff like me, it’s ok.

If you're not good at walking down stairs in heels, it's ok.
If you've ever messed up Communion like me, it's ok.

God knows stairs can be tricky.
God knows directions can be confusing.
God knows faith can be difficult.
God knows trust can be scary.

God knows.