The Art of Footprints and a Soft Heart

I think a lot in metaphors.

As I was walking on the beach yesterday morning at 6:30 am, the sun behind me, the endless stretch of the multicolored gulf to my left, I couldn’t help but think.

I look at my life, my heart.

I am very independent. I am one of those people who want to do the hard work all by myself.

But, while that has some benefits, community has been compromised as a result. It is not a priority. It sounds terrible to say, but sometimes work and perfectionism gets in the way of me making sure to prioritize relationships.

But I want to be soft, I want to be molded.

I want a soft heart, one that is ready to listen quietly to the sounds of a beach in the morning. I want my heart to be like the soft sand, uneven and disturbed because of the number of people it has let shape and define it.

I want my life to be molded by the people around me, people who make me better and who I can learn from. I want to stop doing it on my own.

Because I can’t.

I want to see all the times God has also been there in the soft sand with me, all the instances He has disrupted my path for something greater. A path that when I look behind me, all I can see is the trail He has so obviously been crafting.

But sometimes, my heart has a tendency to grow hard and stubborn. Sometimes it resembles more of the tough, compact wet sand that gets gnawed away by the waves. The waves of shame, of living up to the world’s expectations, of tricking myself into thinking all I need is me.

Funny thing is, footprints don’t really show up in the wet sand, do they? They might for a few fleeting moments before another crashing wave makes them disappear. But, what then?

I want to stop letting people touch just the mere surface of my soul. I want their footprint to dig deep. I want them to walk away with grainy remnants of time well spent, of secure vulnerability, of a little bit more intimacy of the person who stares back at me in the mirror.

The wet sand may look smooth from a distance, but it is dark and unstable and easily swept away by the water.

And I don’t want a heart like that.

I am practicing the art of being soft in a world that tells me to be firm. That tells me I don't need anyone. That tells me I can handle it on my own.

I am practicing choosing to walk in the powdery, smooth sand that may cause a little more effort on my part. I may have to pick up my feet and wade in the way it shifts under my toes. But it will be worth it.

~Olivia