Waiting for the other shoe to drop

I sit in quiet in my favorite chair

and hear you tell my heart of blessed peace

and still I worry about not worrying

jaded by loss and hardship

having heard the previous clunk of pain

dropped into my lap

I await what seems inevitable—

I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When in reality

my heart is filled with peace

a gift of grace from an attentive Father

to his child; and I bring to you this

senseless anxiety—this shoe which may or may not drop

and choose instead to

inhabit the cheerful tranquility

of a Father’s promise for peace this day.

I’ve been thinking about how easy it is to be caught in a web of fear and anxiety. That even when there’s no cause for concern, I worry about the absence of worry. I read this morning that God’s peace is a daily gift into our lives, not unlike the manna given to the children of Israel in the wilderness—enough for one day.

This phrase of waiting for the other shoe to drop, kept recurring in my thoughts. It comes from the late 19^th and early 20^th century, when laborers lived in stacked apartments with little insulation. A neighbor above would come home late, remove a shoe and drop it with a thud, waking the sleeping tenant below, who now awake, would lie there waiting for the other shoe to drop. It is has come to imply awaiting a seemingly inevitable event, usually undesirable.

So even though I’ve asked my Father for peace, and He has so graciously given me His peace, there are days or moments when my eyes can’t see or I cannot know, and I hunker down and wait for the other shoe to drop. And it seems more likely that this pall falls over me when good things happen; as if I doubt the promise of good gifts. Well, like most mental considerations, it takes a choice to believe and dwell in peace. This day I choose peace, and fortunately, it’s not dependent on anybody’s shoes.