I purchased a new pair of work boots this week. I was given Christmas money . . . two years ago . . . for new boots. At that time, I didn't think I needed new boots. But I finally gave in this week. For six years, I've been wearing a great pair of Georgia boots. I bought them when we first moved to Michigan. They didn't cost very much, but they served me well for a long time. Now, however, they have holes in the soles and are pretty much falling apart. I decided that it was finally time for new boots.
The new boots are Red Wings. Even though they were on sale, they were expensive. I had trouble making the decision to buy them, but I kept reminding myself that the money was a gift that I had been given for that purpose. So I bought the boots. And they are beautiful.
Once I had the new boots, I intended to discard my old boots immediately. But when I got home, I discovered that I wasn't able to do that.
The new boots are Red Wings. Even though they were on sale, they were expensive. I had trouble making the decision to buy them, but I kept reminding myself that the money was a gift that I had been given for that purpose. So I bought the boots. And they are beautiful.
Once I had the new boots, I intended to discard my old boots immediately. But when I got home, I discovered that I wasn't able to do that.
I realize that it's probably unhealthy and a little weird to be attached to a pair of old boots, but I simply couldn't throw them away. I have old jeans that are so torn up that they are now fashionable, and I'm finally able to discard old jeans. But not old boots.
Yes, they are falling apart. Yes, they look pretty ragged. Yes, my feet get wet when I wear them in the rain. But I knew intuitively that there might be situations that call for old boots. What's more, those boots represent so much to me. I began to think of all the places those boots had carried me - and all the jobs those boots had helped me accomplish. Those boots were part of the building of barns and the planting of trees. Those boots were there when wood was split and Shadow was walked. And just today, I used those old boots for a really dirty job. Now that the chickens are in the freezer, it was time to clean out the barn. And those old boots were perfect for that messy task.
So I'm going to keep - and use - my old boots.
All the same, the new boots are needed too. There will be some tasks and jobs that will be beyond the ability of my old boots - some times when it simply won't do to have holes in my soles. Over time, the new boots will become soft and comfortable and familiar. And they will fulfill an important purpose.
So I will keep - and use - my new boots too.
Now, if you honestly think that this blog is about boots, then you don't know me very well. I could easily be talking about all kinds of things, but what I really have on my mind today is the tension between old and new that the people of God seem to struggle with so often. Foolishly, we tend to believe that we have to choose one or the other. We either decide that the old has already served its purpose and should now be discarded. Or we are so comfortable with what we know that we won't even consider something new. After all, we know what we like - and for most of us, that's all that matters.
Interestingly, "what we like" has no place in the life of God's people. Ever. Instead, what matters is what he wants. That is the only thing that matters.
I suspect - no, I'm sure - that there are circumstances that call for old boots. And I am just as sure that there are circumstances that call for new boots. If we choose only one or the other, we're going to end up being half dressed. What's worse, we will be ill-equipped for the job at hand.
So here's what I say: let's keep both pairs of boots. And let's enjoy using both of them. To the glory of God.
Yes, they are falling apart. Yes, they look pretty ragged. Yes, my feet get wet when I wear them in the rain. But I knew intuitively that there might be situations that call for old boots. What's more, those boots represent so much to me. I began to think of all the places those boots had carried me - and all the jobs those boots had helped me accomplish. Those boots were part of the building of barns and the planting of trees. Those boots were there when wood was split and Shadow was walked. And just today, I used those old boots for a really dirty job. Now that the chickens are in the freezer, it was time to clean out the barn. And those old boots were perfect for that messy task.
So I'm going to keep - and use - my old boots.
All the same, the new boots are needed too. There will be some tasks and jobs that will be beyond the ability of my old boots - some times when it simply won't do to have holes in my soles. Over time, the new boots will become soft and comfortable and familiar. And they will fulfill an important purpose.
So I will keep - and use - my new boots too.
Now, if you honestly think that this blog is about boots, then you don't know me very well. I could easily be talking about all kinds of things, but what I really have on my mind today is the tension between old and new that the people of God seem to struggle with so often. Foolishly, we tend to believe that we have to choose one or the other. We either decide that the old has already served its purpose and should now be discarded. Or we are so comfortable with what we know that we won't even consider something new. After all, we know what we like - and for most of us, that's all that matters.
Interestingly, "what we like" has no place in the life of God's people. Ever. Instead, what matters is what he wants. That is the only thing that matters.
I suspect - no, I'm sure - that there are circumstances that call for old boots. And I am just as sure that there are circumstances that call for new boots. If we choose only one or the other, we're going to end up being half dressed. What's worse, we will be ill-equipped for the job at hand.
So here's what I say: let's keep both pairs of boots. And let's enjoy using both of them. To the glory of God.