Last night, I dreamed that I was driving a logging truck in an ice storm – storms aside, I am fairly certain that truck-driving would be my ideal vocation. When I finally arrived home in Montrose, Colorado, safe and sound, someone knocked on my door. I opened it to find a man standing in the swirling snow; he told me that he built his own boat, and he really thought I should come see it.
“But – I’m not wearing any makeup!” I protested.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“But – I don’t have any shoes!” I challenged.
“That’s okay – I brought you these.” He pulled out high-heeled leather boots, lined with sheep’s wool. They were his mother’s. They were size 6 ½.
He won me over. What can I say – it doesn’t take much.
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This week, I promise to write about the following things:
- “Friday Night Lights”
- My 10-year high school reunion
- How a doorknob reminded me that God loves me