Shoe shopping is the best. Of all the articles of clothing that make up an outfit, the shoes make or break the man. Kicks count. My best friend picked me up as soon as the bell of freedom rang, and off we went. My heart thumped as we arrived at the skate shop. This place always had the best shoes. In fact, I was so certain that they would have what I wanted that I brought 100 bucks in case I needed more than one pair. Sure enough, as I approached the towering display of sneakers my mouth began to water. I could see at least five pairs that I would have no problem buying immediately.
I started calling out sizes. Can I get these Adidas in a 10 1/2? "No problem man!" The salesman guy could tell that we had come to drop some major cash. "Agh dude.... don't have em... bummer bro." Big bummer indeed. No problem though, there were still four possibilities left. I called each and every one of them out to him. One by one, the guy kept coming back from storage with that same look of epic failure in his face. This hot spot shoe store did not have a single pair that I wanted in my size. Major let down. I settled for my number six choice, they had them in a 10 1/2.
After the day was over, I laid in my bed contemplating my job at a local fast food place. The job was hard, my boss is mean, and the pay is nearly as low as it can go..legally. Just the other night one of my co workers broke the sink off of the wall. I cant wait to see what my boss has to say to me, the manager of the shift.
Then it hit me. Each of these intertwined bummers had a purpose.
To finish the story, because I went to school yesterday I was able to have some one on one time with my struggling english teacher. I learned that she is struggling in more ways than one. She was recently let go, and is moving to Norway to take care of her sick father. My heart was broken by her story. I was able to invite her to come to my church so she can be strengthened and prayed for if she was willing. The look on her face began as bewilderment but quickly changed to relief and hope as I explained to her what it was like in the living room at Metro. She may soon come to see for herself.
At the skate shop I was forced to buy shoes I didn't totally love in the beginning. When I got home I threw them on the table as I grabbed something from the fridge. My mom took a look at them and quickly complemented me on my ability to pick out the best ones that she had seen in a while. Cool. She liked them. My brother walked in about 15 minutes later and stopped cold to point out how he thought my shoes were "sick" (awesome). I took another good look at them and within minutes I was convinced that I had bought the best pair in the store. They were even better than the ones I had previously wanted.
At work, I realized that I have a specific reason for being there that was not my own. The people I work with are hurting. Each one of them have come to me for prayer or with questions about who Jesus really was and what He really said. They trust me, and God has placed me there to teach them and to comfort them in their afflictions, as ugly and as painful as they may be.
I believe that the disciples had this same feeling of let down followed by glorious revelation as I have had in my life. They walked and talked with the most loving and mighty man in all of history for three years strait, only to watch Him be tortured and killed brutally before His kingdom could even be established.
The disciples thought that life had let them down, that Jesus had let them down. But on the third day He got up out of the grave to remind them once again of His, and their, true purpose.
All things work together for the good of those who love Him.
Maybe not in the beginning, but always in the end.
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