Actually the problem was one boot. 
It was midnight last Saturday after a great day celebrating a colleague’s installation. I’d flown from CT to WI and looked forward to hitting the pillow when I realized that the zipper was broken on my right boot.
The zipper would not budge. It. Would. Not. Budge.
A comedic workout ensued. (Feel free to imagine me attempting ridiculous gymnastic exercises in hopes of removing the boot from my foot.)
Nothing worked. I was going to die wearing that right boot.
I phoned the front desk to ask for help (making the night shift concierge’s day) and he arrived with scissors and a serrated knife. Clearly, the only way out was to cut the boot off my foot. Cut boot = ruined boot.
But I was free. It’s amazing how okay you feel giving something up if it was keeping you from moving or resting or feeling free. And yesterday I replaced the boots with a pair with no zipper and a better fit. Happy ending.
We can replace the word “boot” with all kinds of things that need to be replaced in our lives. It’s really hard to toss things we love but sometimes we have to do it. I’d hoped to keep those boots forever but – to be perfectly honest – they looked better than they felt. Sometimes they even hurt my feet.
What does the church need to replace even though we really don’t want to do it? What have we hoped to keep forever even though it’s causing a little pain – if we are perfectly honest? What would it take to give it up?
A Church for Starving Artists 