Feet

"I...I broke my foot," Matt stammered to his dad over the phone.

Matt broke his foot!  How many times can a person break his foot?  Is Matt not taking care of himself?  Well, he actually is a pretty careful eater.  Sleep!  That's it!  He always sounds tired when I talk to him.  Clearly he's not getting his rest. 

"I bet he's worn down," I declared emphatically to his dad.  "Matt sounds tired alot.  Could that make him more susceptible to breaking bones?"

Bobby flashed a sad smile, "Probably not so much as playing soccer every day of his life."

"Oh yah...yah right...Is he sure it's broken?"

"He'll go to the doctor on Monday, but he said it popped just like it did the other two times."

He still had a whole month of soccer games left!  These were the ones we'd be able to go to.  Stink! 

As the next couple of days passed I thought of it all the time.  I prayed for Matt.  I fondly remembered his little baby feet...not the thick calloused adult feet he now has.  Memories of Sandy Patti's song "Beautiful Feet, Cutiful Feet, Beautiful, Cutiful Feet!"  I could just see his soft, little piggytoes, and feel them as I kissed those little piggys and sang away.  It seems that song must've always been playin while I was changing his diaper.  I'd immediately finish fastening the diaper and grab those piggytoes.  As Sandi sang "Beautiful Feet" I'd be swaying Matt's precious feet back and forth to the music.  Yes, my son was surely going to have beautiful feet, "the feet of those who bring good news of Jesus to others" I thought as I prayed and sang to my little guy.

Now his beautiful feet are once again broken. 

Just today I got a text from Matt.  I had texted him this morning to say, "I love you Hookey, son of my heart." 

O.K. so Hookey is yes, another crazy nickname of one of my kids.   But wait, this one Matt made up.  Not me!  One time when I was lovin on "my little Mattie" he said, "I'm not Mattie, I'm Hookey."  It stuck.

So back to the story - he texted saying, "My favorite mommy that will always get my kicky feet no matter how much you love me."

As a little duffer he used to sleep in our bed.  He liked to lay across the top of our bed on our pillows, with his sweet little face by his daddy's face and you guessed it...his kicky feet at my head.

Memories of my little boy, Matt, are larger than life.  I can't remember what I cooked for supper the night before but I can remember back twenty years ago to the soft, sweet scent of his baby toes as I kissed them until he giggled while Sandy sang on "Beautiful, Cutiful Feet." 

Matt's foot is broken. 

Again.

God's Plan.

God's Perfect Plan.

The Plan that is Perfectly tailored for Matt to have the most beautiful, cutiful feet ever to share the good news of Jesus...and it's broken.