I have a picture. It is a precious picture. This picture is from when my son was a baby. In this picture are two sets of feet. They both have a story to tell.
The first set of feet belongs to my husband. They are medium sized feet, sort of Flintstone-esque with big square toes and a wide, sturdy look about them. You look at these feet and know they belong to someone who stands solidly on them. What do I know about these feet ? I know they’ve had to work hard. These are not feet that have spent their life in deck shoes or loafers. They have not sat at a desk pushing paper except during school. These feet do not run away from a fight carrying the body above to safety. These are feet that stand straight and true, ready to kick down whatever obstacle stands in their way. These feet walked my husband down the aisle to me to join my feet on a new path together.
That brings me to the second pair of feet. These feet are the tiny feet of my son. In the picture they are new feet that have yet to walk any path except in my arms. They are narrow feet with wee toes and wrinkles. I look back and wonder how he even learned to walk on such tiny feet. While the bigger pair of feet spent a lot of time on their journey alone, this tiny pair of feet will have company. This tiny pair of feet are growing and have already had to walk a difficult path. I know this because my feet have been there too. What I am grateful for is the big, solid feet on the other side walking the path with us.