This morning my sister called me at 9:30 am and asked me to go to the 10:00 am church service with her. Truthfully, all I wanted to do was to sleep in, but the more I laid there coming up with excuses as to why I didn't want to get up, the worse I felt.
My feet hit the floor at a run because Abby said she was going to zip past my house and pick me up on her way through. I dashed into Katzya's room, told her we were going to church and asked her to hurry. She, like most teenagers, grumbled and stumbled her way down the hallway semi-dressed and I hurriedly finished getting ready.
Abby pulled up in front of the house, honked her horn and we ran outside to greet her. Katzya got in the front seat while I got in the back seat and truthfully I never noticed what Katzya was wearing. Until we got to church....
As we were waiting for Abby to grab her morning cup o' joe, I looked down at Katzya's feet and said: "Seriously?! You wore your boots to church?!" In her 13 year old way, Katzya rolled her shoulders and said: "What? I wiped the dirt off of them!"
As the sermon wrapped up, I realized the most important part of the morning was the message about joy and not sweating "the small stuff". Perhaps the cowboy boots this morning were a lesson from God, in that I sweat too much small stuff and need to look at the world a little differently....
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