Shoe Man

I am an advocate of the Sunday Comics for much truth of the condition of mankind can be found there, even though it is with tongue in cheek. Hagar The Horrible, a self-made Viking warrior with a hodgepodge of followers, a teenage daughter, a younger son and a wife who rules the roost, was speaking with his son about the life cycle of a great Viking. “One day you’ll become a great Viking warrior, my son!” he began. “And a Viking is a very special person! His life is filed with adventure, and above all, lots of fun! But a Viking doesn’t spend all his life just having fun.” Where upon the boy perks up, “What else does he do, daddy?” “Well”, Hagar explains, “When he reaches 70 or 75 he begins to slow down a little and take life more seriously.” What’s your life cycle?
I showered and shaved, I adjusted my tie; I got there and sat, in the pew just in time. Bowing my head in prayer, as I closed my eyes, I saw the shoe of the man next to me, touching my own; I sighed. With plenty of room on either side, I thought, “Why must our souls touch?” It bothered me, his shoe touching mine; But it didn’t bother him much. A prayer began, “Our Father…,” I thought, “This man with the shoes, has no pride; They’re dusty, worn and scratched; Even worse, there are holes in the side!” Thank You For The Blessings…”, the prayer went on; I tried to focus on the prayer, but my thoughts were on his shoes again! At the end the shoe man said a quiet “AMEN”. Aren’t we supposed to look our best, when we walk through that door? “Well, this certainly isn’t it”, I thought, glancing toward the floor. And then the songs of praise began. The shoe man was certainly loud, sounding proud as he sang. His voice lifted the rafters, his hands were raised high; The Lord could surely hear, the shoe man’s voice from the sky. It was time for the offering, and what I threw in was steep; I watched as the shoe man reached into his pocket so deep; I saw what was pulled out, what the shoe man put in; I heard a soft “clink”, as when silver hits tin. The sermon really bored me to tears and that’s no lie. It was the same for the shoe man as I saw tears fall from his eyes. At the end of the service, as is the custom here, we must greet new visitors, and show them good cheer. But I felt moved somehow, wanting to meet the shoe man; so after the closing prayer, I reached over and shook his hand. He was old and his skin was dark, his hair was truly a mess; But I thanked him for coming, for being our guest. He said, “My names’ Charlie, I’m glad to meet you, my friend.” There were tears in his eyes, but he had a large wide grin. “Let me explain”, he said wiping tears from his eyes. “I’ve been coming her for months and you’re the first to say ‘Hi’; I know my appearance is not like all the rest, but I really do try to look my very best. I always clean and polish my shoes before my very long walk, but by the time I get here there’re dirty and dusty, like chalk.” My heart filled with pain and I swallowed to hold back my tears, as he continued to apologize, for sitting so near. He said, “When I get here I know I must look a sight, but I thought that if I touched you our souls might unite.” I was silent for a moment, then spoke from my heart, not my head, “Oh, you‘ve touched me”, I said, “And taught me in part, that the best of any man is what’s found in his heart.” The rest I thought, the shoe man would never know; Like just how thankful I really am, that his dirty old shoe touched my soul.
[Acts 17: 24-31] Are you living like tomorrow is Judgment Day? It could be.