Tenderfoot

Much to my embarrassment, I am a tenderfoot.  My mom seems to remind me of it every time I sneak in a complaint about my newest blister after walking short distances.  I used to take pride in the fact that the constant wearing of my soccer cleats and basketball sneakers made me the worst pedicure client ever.  Things have changed.  As I've gotten older I have come to the realization that I have tiptoed around life quite a bit.  I began always looking ahead, trying to anticipate what hurdles would cause me trouble, which turns or breaks in the road would be the safest.  I began strategically planning out the next steps of my life and whenever there was a rock in my shoe I would pull over, complain, and hesitate before I continued on my way.

Just last week I went to one of the nearby orphanages with a group from the ship.  Most of the children were school age - about 7 to 16 years old - with a few older and younger.  They greeted us with skeptical smiles and eventually welcomed us into their tight knit community.  It was clear to see that these children looked out for one another.  There was this sense of togetherness only they understood.  One of the day workers who spoke Kituba, the local language, led the group in a story/discussion.  Then we got together and had a little craft time.  When some of the children had their fill of sitting around, a few of us found our way to the "soccer field/basketball court" aka the dirt area.

The children had no trouble running in flip flops - I decided it's a talent only innocent children are able to master - a talent I used to possess.  After countless failed attempts, I succumbed to the barefoot approach.  If these kids could do it, surely I could too.  I did my best to dodge the jagged rocks and random pieces of wire and glass that somehow found their way onto the "playing field."  I was pleasantly surprised when I got back to the ship and washed my feet off - only dust and dirt filled the drain - no blisters or cuts were revealed.

I didn't ever think I'd get the chance to play soccer with children in Pointe-Noire, Congo - that turn was NEVER on my radar.  It's a clear indication that I have very little control over where I'm headed; I'm beginning to come to terms with that realization.  I've learned that sometimes I have to just walk with rocks in my shoes - and be happy that I have shoes.  I'll probably always be a tenderfoot, but perhaps I'll begin to shy away from tiptoeing around.