I have a deep love affair with Dansko shoes. I have loved them since my dance days. They are supportive. They cradle my feet and give me the hugs in all of the right places for my long dancer feet. They are practical. They go with basically all of my wardrobe. I love them in black. I have them also in brown. Those are my springtime church shoes. They have a pretty little flower embroidery on them.

My favourite are my black shoes though.

I noticed this past autumn that I was really starting to wear them out. Like REALLY. They were beaten. The sole was rubbed down to where you could see inside of them. The staples that keep the leather upper attached to the sole were rusted. Some of the staples were totally gone. The heel leather was coming off. I could feel my toe marks inside the shoe… which is actually a reason I LOVE these shoes. They form so well to my feet.

I have had this pair of shoes for the entire duration of my relationship with my husband. They have carried me through a lot of situations, through puddles, through snow. They have kept me stable on ice when I was due any day and had to walk down our block to move vehicles for snow plowing when Travis was away on business.

I don’t often mention things I need. I only just happened to bring up how beaten down my favourite shoes were because my husband was talking about his own favourite pair of knocking about loafers that were wearing out. He was peeking around on ebay for the same pair but new. I said that I needed to be on the lookout at the thrift stores for a replacement pair of mine. I often find this very shoe at thrift stores, in near perfect condition, for super cheap. That is how I got my other pair. $15 at a Savers in Minneapolis was all I paid for them. They didn’t have wear marks or anything when I got them. It was a steal. So that made sense to me. I’ll just be on the look out. That was the end of the conversation, save for my husband finding his shoes, in his size, and ordering them.

He went away on business that next week. He let me know that he was expecting a couple of things in the mail and to be on the look out for them. When a shoebox shaped package arrived, I made sure to text him and let him know that his shoes had arrived safe and sound.

It had been a really long week. I was up in my bedroom cleaning and putting away laundry. We were talking to each other over Facebook Messenger video and he said to me, “Oh hey, go get those shoes and open them up for me so we can make sure they are good.”

I sent a child downstairs to retrieve the box and then opened it up. There was some packing material and then I could see nothing but tears. I reached my hand into the box and pulled out a perfect, brand new pair of the very same Dansko shoes that were very loved and worn down. He asked me if something was the matter and I just gushed at him. How sweet was this!?
I tried on my new shoes and showed my loving husband over the video chat how they looked… then we compared them to the old pair. Boy were the old pair rough next to this new pair.

So many lessons here for me. You might remember my summer missive about letting my husband drive. This is really part and parcel to that post if I am being honest. I don’t have to rely on just me. I don’t have to rely on solely my bargain hunting skills. I have a capable husband, (I KNOW he didn’t pay full price for these beautiful shoes. We don’t buy things like that.) Moreover, I don’t have to wait for things I need. I can ask. I can ask my husband for the things I need, just like I can ask my Heavenly Father for what I need.

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. “

Matthew 7:7-8

In buying my new shoes for me, without me asking for them, my husband demonstrated God’s love. He met a need I didn’t ask for in order to teach me to ask, seek, and knock. That’s what this seemingly insignificant purchase did. I am a slow learner sometimes when it comes to this kind of thing. Learning to rely not on my own strength is a monumental task. As my now Catholic husband takes on the role and tasks of being a Christian husband, I am learning more and more what it means to be his wife, what it means to be loved as Christ loves the Church, and the even greater lesson: I am learning more and more what it means to consider the lilies of the field.