Socks

It's funny the things people collect, the things that become their obsession at certain times in their lives. In my younger years, I had a real thing for anything "Smurf" related ... you know, the little blue guys from the cartoon. "La la, la la la ..." Yeah, I know what you're thinking. I think the same thing about myself now, although I must confess that I fully intend to find some little kids and take them to see the Smurfs movie that is coming out in August. Because we all know that if you really want to see a kids' movie and you don't want other people to make fun of you, you take a kid or two along with you as cover.

It was around the time of my 30th birthday that my attention shifted from Smurfs (again, I know what you're thinking, and I fully agree with you) to socks. Yes, socks. I developed a major thing for socks. I became fascinated with socks with designs on them, socks made of certain fabric, socks of differing lengths and colors, and of course, socks that matched my clothing. I have no idea where my sudden love for socks came from, but I do know that not only has it remained into my 50-something years of life, it has grown significantly stronger, and, oddly enough, is now a truly important aspect of my physical health.

I learned early on after my diabetes diagnosis that feet are a big deal when you are diabetic ... a really big deal. And I recently learned that diabetes is the number one cause of non-accident related amputations of the feet and legs. That's why almost every time I go to see the doctor, she has me remove my shoes and socks so that she can use this little needle-y thing and stick the bottoms of my feet to make sure I still have sensation in them. And because she is a tricky kind of person, she has me close my eyes so that I can't cheat by seeing when she pokes me. Because I have a significant amount of neuropathy that causes a great deal of pain in my feet from time to time, my long-before established obsession with socks has marched into a whole new realm.

An email comment from a friend this morning about socks is what prompted my pensiveness on the whole socks subject, and thus evolved into the penning of this blog. You know ... I'm thinking ... when I put my shoes on, I can only see the tops of my socks, the part that is probably not really important at all other than it helps to keep the rest of my socks in place on my feet. It's the part of the socks on the inside of my shoe that matters most ... that's the part that cushions my feet, that keeps them warm and dry, that protects them from blisters and pain. The whole hidden versus seen ... important versus unimportant ... I'm pretty sure that's the way God is. The part of me that matters most to Him is what is unseen, covered, hidden away deep within my heart. He knows what's inside the shoes of my life ... and He knows if my socks are what they should be in every way.

And sometimes, sometimes He steps in and tells me that it's time ... time to change my socks.