Dusty Shoes


Young Souls
What Are You Leaving Your Children?
Paint A Thought
God's Tapestry
A Christian's Walk
Within Us
Honesty and Integrity
Beginning Today
Moving The Rock
A Comfortable Silence
At The Window
The Wealthiest Man
Three Trees
Stress Therapy
Let Go
Driving Away The Shadows
Standing Still
The Balance Sheet of Life
A Life That Matters
The Story of Your Life
Eternal Instants
Slow dance
The Piano Lesson
The Atheist's Holiday
How Do YOU Walk?
Exercise Your Soul
The Art of Letting Go
My Quilt
A Penny Blessing
Are You Empty Yet?
Living By Faith
The Living Water
Installing Love
If Only
God Will Provide
The Pillar of Love
Alone I Am Nothing
We Danced
The Thorn Bouquet
Have Courage
And Think Of Me
Don't be afraid to speak out
The Guiding Light
What are you building?
Time - Your Greatest Gift
Peace Garden
Roots of Change
Morning Prayer
Don't Open Your Mouth
Never Give Up On Love
Shining Light
Weather Changes
I Hope by Paul Harvey
Push On
Refining Silver
Loving God's Way
Overcoming A Broken Heart
What's Left?
The Rented Room
When I Am Lonely
Serving Where God Places Us
Clay Balls
God Is
The Oak Tree
Learning From Fear
The Heart of the Soul
Touching Billy
Dusty Shoes
Between You and God
The Shadow of Your Cross
The Wolves Within
When Jesus Looks
The Empty Chair
God Knows
A Walk To School

My alarm went off -- it was Sunday again;
I was tired -- it was my one day to sleep in.
But the guilt I'd have felt the rest of the day,
Would have been too much, so I'd go; I'd pray.

I showered and shaved, adjusted suit and tie,
Got there and swung into a pew just in time.
Bowing my head in humble prayer before I closed my eyes,
I saw that the shoe of the man next to me was touching my own and I sighed.

With plenty of room on either side, I thought,
why do our soles have to touch?"
It bothered me so; he was glued to my shoe,
But it didn't seem to bother him much.

Then the prayer began: "Heavenly Father," someone said--
But I thought, "Does this man with the shoes have no pride?"
They were dusty, worn, scratched end to end.
What's worse, there were holes on the side!

"Thank You for blessings," the prayer went on.
The shoe man said a quiet "amen."
I tried to focus on the prayer,
But my thoughts were on his shoes again.

Aren't we supposed to look our best
when walking through that door?
"Well, this certainly isn't it,"
I thought, glancing toward the floor.

Then the prayer ended and songs of praise began.
The shoe man was loud, sounding proud as he sang.
He lifted the rafters; his hands raised high;
The Lord surely heard his voice from the sky.

Then the offering was passed; what I threw in was steep.
The shoe man reached into his pockets, so deep,
And I tried to see what he pulled out to put in,
Then I heard a soft "clink," as when silver hits tin.

The sermon bored me to tears--And no lie--
It was the same for the shoe man, for tears fell from his eyes.
At the end of the service, as is custom here,
We must greet the visitors and show them good cheer.

But I was moved inside to want to meet this man,
So after the closing, I shook his hand.
He was old, his skin dark, his hair a mess.
I thanked him for coming, for being our guest,

He said, "My name's Charlie, glad to meet you, my friend,"
And there were tears in his eyes--but he had a wide grin.
"Let me explain," he said, wiping his eyes.
"I've been coming for months, and you're the first to say, "Hi."

"I know I don't look like all the rest,
but I always try to look my best."
"I polish my shoes before my long walk,
But by the time I get here they're as dirty as chalk."

My heart fell to my knees, but I held back my tears,
He continued, "And I must apologize for sitting so near."
"But I know when I get here, I must look a sight.
I thought if I touched you, our souls might unite."

I was silent for a moment knowing anything I said,
Would pale in comparison, so I spoke from my heart not my head.
"I'm so glad you came, and have taught me, in part,
That the best of a man is what's in his heart."