Mike’s Musings ….
Dad’s Combat Boots
When I finished high school, I knew I needed a full-time job and not merely a full-time summer job and a part-time winter job. A faithful Christian owned a construction company, and the work was plentiful. He knew I had no experience but hired me anyway and immediately put me to work as a “general laborer.” The job required good working boots, but with no money of my own to buy them, I “borrowed” Dad’s combat boots. He had two pairs of them and kept both pairs on the workbench in the basement. He only occasionally wore one pair, so it seemed “just fine” to use the other pair.
That first day of work went well, and I returned home excited about the challenges and benefits of this labor. I had taken the boots off and left them in my room, unaware that Dad knew I had “borrowed” them. At supper that night, Dad was conspicuously quiet toward me, and that silence bothered me. He finally asked, “How did my boots fit you? And why didn’t you ask me about using them?” I replied, “They fit just fine.” (We wore the same size in most clothing.) “And I thought you wouldn’t mind since they just stay on the workbench.” I’ll never forget his reply: “You haven’t earned those boots, and I’m quite sure I have. Put them back.” I did, and the following is the lesson I learned!
Dad had worn those boots during WWII in Germany. He was a combat medic, and if those boots could talk, I’m not sure I could bear hearing their stories. Dad shared very little about his military service, but enough to let us know it was no “ordinary job.” Indeed, he had earned the right to own and wear those boots! I had no right to wear them!
I think of that when I read Ephesians 6: 10 – 20. Only Christians are “issued” this uniform, and only as faithful soldiers in His kingdom do we retain the right to wear the uniform. With our feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace, we tread this battlefield of life with varying soils beneath our feet. We tread the rocks of violent interference against truth, we walk through the weeds and thorns of falsehoods, we trudge through the wayside soils of complete disinterest in truth, and we find fertile soil from time to time. The war against truth and righteousness is one requiring faithful soldiers to walk, and our feet are protected from war-torn (sinful) ground by the eternally lasting gospel!
Though perhaps an odd musing, it is an accurate one. I have Dad’s boots in his footlocker, stored in my shed. I’ve never worn them since that day more than fifty years ago. I do, however, wear the gospel of peace every day! Have I “earned” those “shoes?” I believe so … but to ensure that right, I’ll not remove the gospel from me – ever! Muse on the importance of that, dear reader, then serve it well!