I found myself in a world of hurt the other day, and it all boiled down to my choice of shoe.
Several days into our autumn trip up and down the Blue Ridge Mountains, we’d scheduled a travel day…so I decided to wear my “city” shoes for the drive.
What I failed to consider were the waypoints and overlooks. And the trails. One trail, in particular: the Black Rock Summit trail.
Billed as an “easy” hike, it mostly lived up to that rating (although I’ve noticed that you can kinda tell it’s YOUNG people who rate these trails, not Codgers Like Me.)
The elevation gain, for a summit hike, was indeed modest. But a few hundred feet in, I began to notice the stones that littered the path beneath my feet. Far too numerous to avoid, the stones soon enough began to mock and chide the wimpy soles on my “city” shoes.
I made it to the top, of course. We all did.
(Well, almost to the top.)
Still, I deeply regretted having packed my “hiking” shoes away for the day…regretted not only during the walk down, but for the rest of the day, and even the day following.
A sturdy sole, I reckoned, would have done my weary feet a world of good.
You’d think a Codger Like Me would know better. It’s not my first trail, after all. But still I found myself out in the wild improperly equipped.
And as I rub those same aching peds this Sunday morning, I find myself working up a bit more sympathy for the schlep who gets tossed out of the banquet in this week’s gospel story:
“The king said to him: ‘My friend, how is it that you came in here without a wedding garment?’”
How, indeed?
But there’s comfort to be found, I suppose, in the fact that the Host still called him “friend” as he encouraged the schlep to do better.
And even MORE comfort in knowing that Jesus continues to search for all lost soles (ah, I couldn’t wait to slip that one in there😝!) on the byways, among the cast-out, and even I suppose welcoming us mistake-prone Codgers Who Ought To Know Better.
Let us remember that we are in the presence of the Holy & Merciful One.
With Us Still 
Beautiful country. Gail and I lived in the Fairfax and Manassas areas of Northern Virginia back in the late ’80s. A couple of other families and ourselves would take to the “drive” and trail every spring and fall…awesome. Sorry about your footware but glad you had the chance to visit.