I am wearing socks today.  The northwest chill has set in upon us.  The sun’s effervescent warmth has betrayed me.  The majority of Me is pretty good with this change, all except one part, my feet.  Unlike the fall, spring’s thaw comes the joy of new footwear .  Gone is the restriction of shoes and socks!  In comes the revolution of foot freedom… flip flops!

Ahh yes, once summer hits, nary a sock needs to be cleaned in my wardrobe.  The clickity-clack of my flip-flop sound can be heard as the drum beat of my summer soul.

But now fall is here.  The socks on my feet bring a needed warmth, but also a stark reminder of what was lost. The cold must be combated. Yes, I could live in mental rebellion to the frozen feetsies.  I could be as some are, flip-flop warriors, wearing them in the middle of the arctic tundra just because they can.  Guess I am getting too old for that kind of demonstration wear.

And so I will change with the season.

Now this does not mean I round up my flip flops and burn them in a giant heap of protest, chanting and dancing around the toxic billowing smoke shouting, “The Day of Flip Flops are over, today is the day of the sock and shoe!!!”  I probably would have done that at some point in the past.

But today, I have learned that seasons change.  Times change. And so the spiritual act of storing the flip-flops away in my closet is no longer a resignation that summer has been lost, but that summer will come again.

I wonder if that is the role of the Prophet in the church today.  One who is able to see the changing in the season a little sooner than most and speaks out that the leaves are changing color and that the first frost is near.

BTW, today did warm up a little, maybe I could even sneak the flip-flops out for one more hurrah!

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