A story of roaches, coach shoes, and Jesus. A story of grace.

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“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”  Mother Teresa 

I had a friend tell me once,

“Just because you have a bunch of white friends with money – doesn’t mean you’re supposed to be a missionary.”

I was so mad God wouldn’t send me to Africa.

And this was just two years ago.

My friend and I weren’t talking about white people or black people, we weren’t talking about people giving money: don’t miss the point here by reading trivial text out of context. We were talking about being mad at God.

I was mad because we couldn’t adopt. I was mad because we weren’t working in a church. I was mad because we couldn’t be missionaries. I was mad because I felt like a pawn in the game called, Christian.

I was mad because I wanted to just do something and it seems like I was stuck doing nothing.

Because the truth of the matter is: sometimes you’re tired of hearing, “Go into all the world” and you’re saying, send me! And He simply says-

Not.right.now.

And I was sick.to.death of being told, no.

So I was crying. Well, screaming really. I think I even had serious booger action going on. I was a mess. On the phone with my friend, yelling about how angry I was at God for giving me crazy desires and no outlet for them.

Have you ever been there?

Where you’re just crying out to God. I’m here and WHY DON’T YOU USE ME?


 

There’s this lady I know. She sleeps with roaches.

And we’re not talking a few roaches. We’re talking: When we go visit her… we strip down before coming home and even hours later– we still feel the bugs. She lives in our town- population 3,000.

There’s this lady I know. She wears Coach shoes. (Yes, the purse company, Coach makes shoes… I didn’t know either) This lady? She lives in our town– population 3,000.

The cost of Coach shoes could feed a village in my beloved Africa. We’re talking feed them for days.

Last week? My friend with Coach shoes, washed the feet of the lady with roaches. And even as I type this my eyes fill with tears. Every.single.time I think of it– my eyes fill with tears.

My friend with the Coach shoes? Yeah. Her. She washed the feet of the lady with bugs crawling all over her. She bent low on her dirty, filthy floor and washed her feet. She washed her feet while wearing her Coach shoes. 

Because she understood. This lady isn’t dirty and filthy, she is loved by a Savior. Her feet are precious and worth more than gold.  Her floors, her feet? Those are just material things.

You see, just because we have feet adorned with jewls doesn’t mean we can’t love those whose feet are worn and tired, dirty and needing grace.

It wouldn’t have mattered if it were Keds, Coach, or Reebok. Our friend with roaches only felt the sweetness of Jesus that day.

And she didn’t care what kind of shoes Jesus was wearing.

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There’s this lady I know. She turns red faced when you ask her to speak.

There’s this other lady I know. She needed new shoes. She’s the lady with roaches.

My red faced friend? She was there when the feet washing happened. She left and bought new shoes. She returned with the shoes and cut them to fit our friend with swollen, tired, clean feet. While she placed the new shoes on her feet- my Coach shoe wearing friend and I dumped the water from washing the feet of our new friend.

We dumped the dirt and shame out of that bucket and returned inside to see her in new, shiny, dollar general shoes.

Our lady with roaches? She felt like a princess.

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Here’s the deal.

We were missionaries that day. And if I had moved to Africa I would have missed it. If I had stayed mad at God because he didn’t fit the desires of my heart- the desires HE gave me-into MY box, the way I thought it should go… I would have missed it.

And those two crazy kids we adopted last year? If I had moved to Africa, I would have missed. it. If I had stayed mad at God because he didn’t fit the desires of my heart- the desires HE gave me-into MY box, the way I thought it should go… I would have missed it.

And this church thing? This revolution we’re startingIf I had stayed mad at God because he didn’t fit the desires of my heart- the desires HE gave me-into MY box, the way I thought it should go… I would have missed it.

May we live boldly friends. May the desires placed upon our hearts change those around us. May we realize moving thousands of miles away isn’t always the answer. May we be a people who are not above getting our Coach shoes dirty. May we be a people proud of who God made us and live boldly according to the desires placed in our hearts.

May we have the wisdom and strength to do things now. Not later when we are prepared. Not later when we’ve moved to our “Africa” may we understand God has equipped us now for good works.

May we realize, it doesn’t matter. Coach shoes, shy and red faced, or angry hearts. God can do big things through each.and.every.one.of.us.

Typing barefoot- wishing I had a pedicure, broken in a million ways~

*edit this sweet soul did go home to be with the LORD during that same hot summer.*

All my love,

Kati


 

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Um, yeah… is there an ad below here? A creepy ad  (yes, directly below here, some strange video, perhaps?) I didn’t put it there = / And I didn’t choose what it will advertise. Sorry about that.

 
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4 thoughts on “A story of roaches, coach shoes, and Jesus. A story of grace.

  1. okmotherof2

    The work you’re doing is amazing. I’m always anxious to see a new post in my inbox. Loving and missing the GTribe!

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