The history of shoes provide to you.

SAND IN THEIR SHOES

GRAMPS was waiting in a kindergarten classroom for the students to come in from the playground. He had seen them lining up to come in from the playground when he arrived to read to the class as a volunteer.Before too long he heard the sound of their little voices in the hallway.They were supposed to have, "quiet time," in the hall; but how could children in their fìrst week ofkindergarten keep quiet?
    Gramps did not have to wait long before sweaty little boys and girls traipsed into the classroom. A丘er some encouragement from their teacher, the students found their desk and were fidgeting in their seats. When they all were seated, then they were allowed to get a much needed drink, by rows, to quench their thirst. Gramps requested the boys in each row let the girls go first as that was the gentlemanly thing to do. Some boys responded by letting the girls go first while others did not. Oh well, politeness takes time and maybe before the end of the month they would let the girls go first even though they did not let
their sisters go first at home.
    After all the students had quenched their thirst and were seated at their desk, the teacher introduced Gramps to her new kindergarten class. Gramps soon found out the children were more interested in the sand in their shoes from the playground than they were to meet him. He was not surprised since this would be a daily occurrence as he had learned from previous years. He once questioned.
    "How can there be any sand left on the playground judging from the amount they carry into the classroom in their shoes?"
     The students who had sand in their shoes were allowed to go two at a time to empty the sands out of their shoes and into the trash can by the teacher's desk. Gramps took this opportunity to help those who could not tie their shoes laces and to visit with them. During this time he found out some very important information. One student informed him that part of his shoes lace was missing because his dog had chewed on it. This caused another student to inform Gramps his dog was missing part of his ear; he thought the neighbor's cat ate it. one little girl then informed Gramps her doll had short hair since she had given it a hair cut with her new scissors her mom had bought her for school. Another young lad told this tale as he sat on the floor emptying sand
out of his shoes.
    "I don't need help tying my shoes because my momma bought me
shoes with Velcro because 1 don't know how to tie shoes. She had my cat de-clawed and now we have piles in the yard because my cat can't dig a hole. My mom told me to watch where 1 walk in the grass. You know cat stuff smells bad."
    As Gramps continued helping tie shoe laces a丘er the students
emptied the sand out of their shoes, his knowledge increased as
each student had to have their little chit chat. One young man told Gramps.
    "I told my mom not to cry when she brought me to the room or
it would make me cry and that would embarrass me."
    A little blue eyed girl informed Gramps that her dog and cat
missed her and did not want her to go to school because they had to stay outside in the yard while she was gone. Another boy had to show Gramps the holes in his socks. He went on to say."
    My mom said no one would see the holes in my socks since they were inside of my shoes.
    "As a little brown eyed sad faced girl pulled off her shoes and emptied the sand out she told Gramps. 
    "My cat Lucille climbed on the screen door and tore a hole in it. My Dad said he hoped the cat would run away; my cat is gone now so 1 guess it did."
    When her friend heard her story, she had to tell Gramps her dog just died; she don't know why, it just did. Gramps continued helping the children with their shoes as they removed the playground sand from them. Then he heard a story he wish he had just listened and not asked a question. A little dark eyed boy with a smile as big as the world told Gramps.
"My dog Duke has to stay outside all the time."
Well Gramps just had to ask.
"Why?"
The little boy with the huge smile answered.
"Because he pooties all the time and slides his behind on the
Carpet."
Gramps got his question answered. Won't he ever learn?
Gramps watched as a shy young man took off his shoes and emptied sand in the trash can. He could tell he had something very important to say. As Gramps tied his shoes, the young man whispered to Gramps.
"My Grandma hates my dog because he digs in her flowers and
ro11s in the dirt and Grandpa hates my cat because it never covers up what it does in the yard. Grandpa said he knows the cat does it so he can watch him step in it when he mows the grass."
    While Gramps was busy tying one young man's shoes, a litde girl was patiently waiting for him to get done so he could fix her broken crayon. When she showed it to him and asked him to fix it, he told her it could not be fìxed. Litde tears filled her eyes as she said."My mom told me she would spank me ifI did not take good care of my colors. She said she would not buy anymore."
    Gramps took the crayon and put it back together with scotch tape.
He told her.
"When you see the fìrst star toni如make a wish for a little fairy to buy you some new crayons-m.”
When Gramps fìnished reading to the dass that day, he stopped at a local store and bought a new box of crayons. While the students were getting on the bus to go home, a linle fairy was in a certain kindergarten room replacing a used box of crayons with a new box. As the fairy looked around the room, he smiled when he saw broken crayons lying on a sandy floor. If the janitors did not dean the room daily, the students would have enough sand from their shoes in a week's time to build a sand casde under a broken crayon rainbow. Broken crayons and sand in their shoes had given Gramps a great day and a content smile on his face. He had learned a lot about children, pets,etc.

    

A Word from the Word on Character Qualities

    As for biblical mandates where the wife of a pastor is concerned,
there are none save for the general requirements for that of a godly
woman and/ or helpmate (Prov. 31, Titus 2, Eph. 5, 1 Peter 3).
However, there is one verse listed among the qualifications of a
deacon that appears to reference his spouse. We won't debate here
whether this verse is addressed to a deacon's wife or deaconess, but it
stands to reason that this woman is a servant within the body and is
called upon to meet certain standards. I am referring to 1 Timothy
3:11 which reads, "Even so must their wives be grave, not slanderers,
sober, faithful in all things" (KJV).
    In understanding the importance of embracing one's own personality
and giftedness, I have particularly benefited from the testimony of
Lois Evans (wife of Oak Cliff Bible Church's pastor, Dr. Tony Evans).
She is quick to credit her husband with giving her the freedom to
express herself within the body of Christ. Mrs. Evans shares openly
about the anxieties she faced in her beginning years of being the wife
of a senior pastor, a position she told God she never wanted. There
came a point when Tony set her free by telling her he only wanted her
to be herself. "I don't know why that was such a big deal," she says,
"but it brought me to a reality that yes, God created me to be me, and
even before He placed me in my mother's womb, He had a plan for my
life."3 I am so grateful to have a husband who also has given his blessing
for me to be a sanctified version of the girl he married loud mouth
and all.
    I can honestly say we are each other's biggest cheerleader. Any
real or perceived expectations I felt to be anything more or different
never came from him. I have talked with many, many ministry wives
on this particular subject. Every single one of them has shared that her
husband's support and encouragement was paramount in her feeling
the freedom to be true to her calling and personality.
    In addition to being calm and collected, there is further implication
of sobriety. The word also means "to be circumspect or heedful
of circumstances and potential consequences; prudent."4
    Here is where we can all use a good warning: A woman of sobriety
is a woman of pause. She thinks before she acts. She prays before
she speaks. This is calm and collected in action. Let me give you an
example.

INTRODUCTION

    "God is calling you to do what?n
    Such was my reaction fifteen years ago when my husband, Luke,
told me he felt God was leading him into the gospel ministry. Even
though I supported him wholeheartedly, I naively believed this calling
was somehow just his gig. My job was simply to accompany him
while he did his "thing."
    Reality didn't hit until a well-meaning gentleman enlightened
me on the expectations of a minister's wife. He said, "The best thing
you can do for Luke is learn how to play the piano. He'll have a
much easier time being called as a pastor of a church. Congregations
love it when the pastor's wife can contribute. It's like they are getting
two for one!" If I knew then what I know now, I would have had a
serious fight with the flesh to keep from sharing my thoughts on the
buy-one-get-one-free concept.
    The restraint of the Holy Spirit is a beautiful thing.
    Before that moment, it truly had not entered my mind that anyone
would expect anything of me, or that my lack of musical talent
could affect my husband's ((success" in ministry. I thought of my
    childhood pastor's wife, a grim-faced woman whose hair was piled
high in a bun. Polyester skirts and sensible shoes were her standard
uniform. And, yes, she played the piano. Was this the person I must
become in order for God to use our family in ministry?
    Talk about an Extreme Makeover!
    We moved to Kentucky so Luke could attend Bible college. The
first thing I did was to begin comparing myself to every woman on
campus who no doubt was doing the exact same thing. The question
we were all asking ourselves? ((What in the world does a preacher's
wife do?" Our husbands were getting an education on how to become
ministers while we were left to wonder how we figured into the equation.
I found my answer in an overzealous, pharisaic overhaul of the
externals. I began wearing clothes I wouldn't have been caught dead
in before mostly suited for three times my twenty-two years of age.
I tamed my '80s hair. I calmed my type A personality by yielding
in conversation and becoming more reserved. I baked casseroles for
every surgery and every baby born. The word that guided my reinvention
was Martha. Not the Martha of Scripture, mind you, but
Martha Stewart. (Now that I think of it, there isn't much difference,
is there?"
    It also did not help that the books I read about being a ministry
wife only reinforced my insecurities. The advice ranged from how to
brew a perfect cup of tea for a ladies' luncheon to how to organize a
large staff when hosting a dinner party. According to these books, I
was to be gracious at all times, keep a spotless home, and have welldressed,
obedient children. I'm certainly not criticizing these noble
aspirations, but even before children I was completely overwhelmed
at this picture of perfection. I don't agree with the busyness of our
culture, yet there is no use in denying I often fall prey to its trappings.
The truth is, I am a wife and mother deep in the trenches. The
only tea I brew is Lipton. And staff? Are you kidding me? If I ever
have a workforce at my disposal, they will be too busy doing laundry
to prepare a dinner for the deacons. And where do I begin with the
kids? Someone please tell me what to do with a child who sneaks his
Halloween costume under his clothes, strips off in the bathroom,
and shakes hands as Spiderman during the greeting song when he is
supposed to be in children's church. Susanna Wesley would definitely
not approve.
    I can laugh now at all the crazy things I thought back in the day
and the pressure I put on myself and my family to be perfect, only
because I've done my time with the tears brought on by unrealistic
expectations from myself and others. It has taken years, but I thank
God for helping me recognize that my most important role is as a
helpmate to Luke and a loving mother to our children. In the midst
of molding me into a godlier wife and mom, He has also placed
the calling of minister's wife on my life, and thankfully nowhere in
Scripture does it say I have to play the piano, wear polyester, or host
the perfect party.
    I wish I could give you a list of requirements that would make
you a great preacher's wife. The truth is, the obedience required in
exercising our individual gifts makes that list a very organic thing that
changes from one woman to the other. However, understanding that
we have many common experiences, there are many practical things I
have learned that I wish someone had told me in the beginning. I can't
help but think I wasted a lot of time worrying about what I appeared
to be instead of cultivating the gifts God gave the woman I truly
was. I could have avoided many a broken heart had I known the
difference between true friendship and selfish motivations. I could
have saved my kids some undue pressure by not placing the same
yoke of expectation on them that was a burden to me. I could have
been a better support to my husband by realizing Satan would attack
his ministry close to home.
   In addition to addressing these topics and more, this book will
also give you insight from other ministry wives who understand the
delights and difficulties you face. One of the things we tend to lack
most is a "safe" friendship where we can pour our hearts out without
the fear of repercussion to someone walking our same road. Near the
end of each chapter, you will find a "Round Table," which contains
advice and comments from other women serving alongside their
husbands in capacities ranging from the senior pastorate to music
ministry to evangelism. These are excerpts from conversations on
my blog, The Preacher's Wife (www.APreachersWife.com), where
I invite you to visit for fresh, relevant discussions on ministry and
other fun topics. The end of this book includes several computer
links and resources to help you further explore the online community
and camaraderie available.
    Our worldwide locations and denominations influence our
role "tides." Whether you are the preacher's wife, the pastor's wife,
the vicar's wife, or the wife of a man serving in some other area of
ministry, I want you to hear my heart when I tell you I've prayed
diligently for you during the writing of this book. I've asked God to
show me Scripture that will guide you through the many common
complexities we share. I've asked Him to reveal His heart to you and
that the experiences I share will resonate with your own. I've begged
Him to let this book be one that will give you righteous confidence
in the leadership role He has given you in your home and church.
    By sharing what I've learned as the wife of a minister, I hope to
save you from the pitfalls I've experienced. To spare you a few years
of trial and error in relating to those you serve, to guard you from a
few heartaches, and to let you know you are not alone. To convince
you that your unique gifts and personality can translate into one
fantastic pastor's wife whether or not you are an outgoing hostess,
your flower beds are weeded, or you and the kids are on time for
Sunday school. I pray with all my heart that you know these chapters
overflow with a deep affection for those of you who are married to
the ministry.



Growing up a princess! (Vs. a superhero)

    Little girls love to be noticed by their daddy's and to be told how
pretty and lovely they are. If you go to a children's section of a sto re, you
will even find princess costumes to help a little girl fulfill her princess
dreams. When a little girl gets healthy attention from her daddy, she
shines brighter than any star. As little girls are nurtured and grow, their
daddy's continually remind them through their attention and interactions
that they are more precious than any riches the world could provide. They
are a like a pearl!

    As we grow up, we continue to want to feel precious and lovely and have
others see us in this way. We often seek this attention in the young men
that we find attractive. I bring this up so that you can stop for a moment
and reflect on what you may be getting out of your relationships.

    What do you want from these young men in your life?

    Do you want companionship, friendship, or do you want somebody to
make you feel beautiful?

    If you are looking for the latter, I'm afraid to tell you that you are looking in the wrong place.

   They often don't feel like they know who they are as individuals. During the time that they should have been figuring out the "me", they just jumped from one "we" to the next. The great thing is this is one of the decisions in your life that you truly are in control of and have time on your side. I know patience
can be one of the most difficult disciplines to master, but you have time.
There n1ay be n1any things that life may throw at you that do not allow
any tin1e to adjust to and that you just simply don't have a choice about.
Parents announcing they are getting a divorce, being told that you have a
life threatening illness, or having a close friend move away. You may not
have a choice in any of these types of decisions, so embrace the choices that
you do have. To become who God has created you to become.

Plain And Sin1ple Hearts


    Valentine's Day broke the boredom of Iowa's grueling winter.
As soon as the showy cards appeared in the window of the Ben
Franklin Five-and-Dime, Shirley and I hurried in to make our
selections.

    Back home, we sorted our cards, choosing the appropriate
verse for the teacher and for each classmate. We were careful
about the messages on the cards for boys. Valentine Greetings
was safe, but Please Be Mine would give a boy the impression
we liked him.

    When I was in Fifth Grade, I came home from school one
day and Ma greeted me with the announcement, "I got a bargain
on Valentines. This big package for only a dollar."

    That she had chosen our cards was bad enough, but when
I saw them I knew Valentine's Day was ruined. The cards had
no lacy frills, no lollipops stuck in slots, no crinkly hearts that
unfolded when you opened the card, no Cupids aiming arrows.

    When delivering baskets, the idea was to place the gift at the
door, ring the doorbell and then run before the recipient could
catch you. How fast did you run? Like a turtle if you wanted to
be kissed by a certain person of the opposite sex; like a gazelle
if you wanted to avoid a kiss. What I can't recall is how we
ever found anyone horne. We were all dashing about making
deliveries; we must have run into each.

    Many of our friends were neighbors, but for those farther
away Poppy drove us on our rounds. One time my cousin Bonnie
delivered a basket to me while we were eating supper. She carne
inside, but I couldn't get up fast enough to chase her. Instead,
she slipped around the table and planted a kiss on me.

    I harbor a fear that some major company will rediscover May
Basket Day and mar its simplicity with commercial baskets,
cards, and trinkets. To ward off that calamity, please do not
share this article with anyone who might be in cahoots with
such a manufacturer. Think Hallmark.

    The second Sunday in May is Mother's Day, one day a year
allotted to honor our mothers. In my youth, Catholics devoted
the entire month to our heavenly Mother, The Blessed Virgin
Mary. At horne, we created a shrine, complete with a statue
of Mary, a vigil candle, and fresh or plastic flowers. We were
supposed to daily kneel at the shrine and say the rosary. I
probably didn't do that.

    Our church held its Crowning of the May Queen (Mary) on
Mother's Day afternoon. All school age children were required
to participate. If you failed to show up, without good reason, you
were doomed to hell, so said the nuns. This fiery punishment also
awaited children who refused to serve Mass or sing in choir.

BEAUTIFUL SHOES, UGLY FEET IT


    IT WAS a Monday morning during the worst recession in US history
since the Great Depression, but no one would know it the day I visited
1022 Shoe, the high-end, fantasyland designer shoe boutique at
Saks Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. To get there, I hurried past the
makeup counters on the first floor and dashed into the express elevator-
the one that stops only on the eighth floor-just as the doors
were sliding shut. A moment later I stepped out, and behold! I was
greeted by a kaleidoscopic array of Christian Louboutin patent
leather peep-toe pumps. One pair was robin's egg blue; the next was
maraschino cherry red. Others beckoned in bubblegum pink, sunflower
yellow, and seafoam green. Oh, and look over on the other
side of the display-there was also an animal print option in shades
ofbrown, beige, and black.
    Jimmy Choo, Yves Saint Laurent, Chanel, Oscar de la Renta,
Dior, Valentino, Dolce & Gabbana-the names don't really matter.
All the shoes in 1022 Shoe-the strappy sandals, the slingbacks, the
closed-back pumps-looked more or less the same. The style formula
of the season: high, thin stiletto heel; covered platform of an inch;
pointy, open toe; colors that were bright, patent leather, metallic,
and/or psychedelic. Sometimes a rosette or bow added an extra decorative
touch. These shoes were gorgeous, extravagant, fantastical.
They were works of art; they transformed the wearer into a princess,
a sexy goddess.
    And the prices-$695, $1,025, $1,575. Even if a woman could
afford the price tags without blinking, the shoes were audaciously
impractical. Who could stand in them for more than a few minutes,
let alone walk in them? The heels were five inches high and so, so
slender. The part of the heel that touches the ground was as wide in
circumference as a single Cheerio. The words "hobble"and "cripple"
popped into my mind. Even the boots were nonfunctional: most had open toes.
    They were also oozing with sex appeal. The heels were
so high and the shoes themselves so open and revealing,
I imagined that only strippers and other sex workers
could wear them without irony. These shoes looked like
they belonged on the set of a pornographic video.
    It's okay to wear stilettos for a few hours once or twice a week at a
party, date, or special event. I am not telling you to haul a bag filled
with all your heels to the Salvation Army. Even if I did, you wouldn't
listen. So keep your heels. But know this: it is foolish to wear them
when you will be walking or standing for long periods of time, and
it is downright dim-witted to wear them all day, every day, for years
on end. If you choose to ignore these warnings, the day will comemaybe
next year, perhaps in five or ten-when you will wake up in
pain. You will look back at your years of bad decisions and wonder:
nMy god, what have I done?"
    In Sex and the Ci!Jl, Carrie and her friends pound the Manhattan
pavement in stilettos very similar to the offerings at Saks-shoes with
itty- bitty toe boxes, zero arch support, inhumanly narrow foot beds,
and a slope that forces feet forward so that you have no choice but to
walk on the balls of your feet. For me, the mystery is not if they live
happily ever after but whether or not they develop bunions (when the
big toe shifts angle, pointing toward the little toes instead of straight
forward) and hammertoes (when toes curl down), among other nasty
afflictions.
    My belief is that if a woman knows full well that wearing her favorite
shoes may lead to hammertoes and bunions, and she makes this choice
with informed consent, that is her decision. However, most women are
not informed and therefore put their feet at risk for the sake of fashion
and beauty without even realizing what they are doing.
    In all seriousness, I suggest that pointy- toed, high-heeled shoes
come with a warning printed on the shoe box, just as with cigarettes:
"These shoes are a health hazard. Wearing them for prolonged periods
on a regular basis may lead to deformity, pain, and ugly feet. Your
Achilles tendons may shorten, making it impossible to wear flats even
if you want to. Wear with caution."
    Many people mistakenly believe that the way
celebrities live is attainable for the rest of us. But
stars are not like us, even if paparazzi capture them
at the market buying the same cereal we eat. Too
many otherwise sensible women foolishly deduce
that since Susan Sarandon gave birth at forty-six
and Geena Davis at forty- eight, they too will be
able to conceive beyond their peak reproductive
years. Just because we see celebrities in stilettos on
red carpets at award shows and premieres does not mean that the rest
of us can or should wear the same shoes on a regular basis.
    Today there is an urgent need to educate women to make smart
footwear choices because of two current trends.
    First, today many women consider extremely high heels to be an
indispensable part of their wardrobe, and they don't just save these
shoes for special occasions; they wear them all day, every day. High
heels worn to work and around town are nothing new, of course, but
now dizzying heights are taken for granted as (!normal." In previous
years, a three-and-a-half-inch heel was ooh la la. Now that height is
categorized as ''medium height" and women feel pressured to go as
high as five inches.
    When I visited the Jimmy Chao boutique on Madison Avenue in
Manhattan, I picked up a pair of slingbacks with obscenely high heels
(and no platform) and turned to the saleswoman. "Over five inches,"
she reported. "Can you walk in these?" I asked her. "I can't," she said.
Another pair on display had a three-anda-half-inch heel. !That's the mediumheightheel," the saleswoman told me, without a trace of irony. ''That one people can walk in. "
    Many women turn to flip - flops because their fee·
hurt after hours in heels. They mistakenly believe tha
flip-flops are like medicine to soothe their aching feet
They could not be more wrong. The lack of support ir
this type of sandal causes the foot to move and roll
leading to multiple injuries and problems, such as the painful heel
condition called plantar fasciitis. Since flip - flops remain fashionable
and trendy-with millions choosing to wear them when walking and
even bicycling-it is critical that women be educated about the damage
they are doing to their feet. Flip- flops belong at the beach or
pool, and for a half-hour after a woman paints her toenails and isn't
going anywhere anyway-and that's it.
    A few hours later, after the shower is over and Carrie is preparing
to leave, she returns to the foyer-only to discover that her beloved,
bejeweled shoes are missing! Someone has stolen her Manolos! Kyra
does not show any empathy. She loans Carrie black, androgynous,
wom-in canvas sneakers to wear home. In the following days, Carrie
continues to be disturbed about her loss and pesters Kyra to see if the
shoes turn up. They don't. Carrie has hundreds of other pairs of
shoes, but she feels incomplete without this particular pair. Kyra offers
to replace them for her, but is aghast and judgmental when she discovers
that Carrie's shoes cost $485. To Kyra, that is an irresponsible
amount of money to spend on shoes for oneself. Kyra determines,
therefore, that she is not responsible for replacing such an extravagance.
    Carrie wonders if Kyra is correct. Perhaps she has made an existential
error in choosing the single, childless lifestyle (in which she
doesn't have to spend money on anyone but herself) instead of Kyra' s
traditional path of husband and babies. Ultimately, Carrie rejects this
interpretation. Since she has always been a loyal friend who buys gifts
for others when they marry and give birth, she decides that she, too, is
deserving of gifts. Carrie registers for her missing shoes at the Manolo
Blahnik boutique, in effect announcing that she is marrying herself,
and leaves a message on Kyra's machine to let her know.

THE HOLIDAYS BEGIN

    It seemed impossible;when everybody had worded so hard,
that the pageant should hang fire at Easter,but it did.By
the beginning of the holidays every scene was written,nobody
had lost their place in form,all the half-crowns were paid in,
and Phoebe looked like winning them.She had finished the term top
 of her form,and,though she had not been top all the term,she had
done better than anybody else,so if she did as well next term the
half-crowns were as good as hers.
    What delayed the pageant preparations was rumours
of peace in Europe.The war had been going on so long that Benjamin
and Augustus were born during it,and Phoebe had been too small to
know what peace was like.THe twins talked as if they remembered a
lot but it was mostly talk.Selina and John could remember,but even
they did not remember a celebration,and,though John had helped a bit
with decorating for that,he had been too small to be much use.
    Now such celebrations as they had neverdreamed of were planned,A
monster bonfire on the hill.Fireworks.A torchlilght procession and as
well of course,there were decorations. Apart from arranging how to decorate
their own house,as a family they were in great demand:they gave advice
and help to half the village.
    The delay in the pageant arrangements drew Selina and Sally together.
Even when there was peace in Europe it did notseem likely that  there would
be parties and dances.
    'There will still be food difficulties,darings,and transport,and,in the
winter,heating.'Mrs Andrews explained.'i don't think you should count on
too much even when the war really ends and the Japanese are beaten.'

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