God Does Know How to Tie Shoes

m14-1Nancy White Carlstrom first asked of me the question, “Does God know how to tie shoes?” to which I astutely replied, “I don’t know; I’ll have to finish the book.”

I was lying in bed several weeks ago when thoughts of the horrors which Chemistry inflicts upon the average high school student, punctuated by a comfortable feeling that I was soon to be rid of it for a few weeks of travel, were all at once interrupted by another, less familiar idea. Yes, Aquinnah, I do know how to tie shoes.

That was a nice thought… for a four-year-old. The God of the universe can tie shoes. So can I. But could He survive Chemistry and still make it to ballet class on time (and with a scrap of sanity)? Come to think of it, could He fill out those college applications, sitting in a dauntingly organized pile upon my desk? They would not have been there anyway, if not for that October morning of late when all I could think was, I have to go. I have to go to college. I want to go to college. Could He fit in 30 minutes of piano practice, getting up the guts to put that driver’s license to use and actually drive, working, eating, sleeping, laundry-doing, reading, writing, unpacking, packing…?

Yes, Aquinnah, I do know how to tie shoes.

Great.

So, I managed my list as best as I could, reminding myself from time to time that God can tie shoes and wondering what exactly that meant.

I toured three very different colleges over the course of about a week. I was all prepared to Rory Gilmore up some pro-con lists, to find my future home, but when it came down to it, I knew. I know that when the time comes, my home will find me. They always have. I’ve put my brain into those applications, but my heart has stitched itself into the facts on its own. It can’t help it!

I was appreciating a sunrise over the lake near my grandpa’s house, letting go of that which is out of my hands, when it finally came to me. I’ll give you a hint.


God knows how to tie shoes.


The simplest of simple, human duties– and He knew. He cared. And if God cared about tying shoes, the simple duty, the running-out-the-door science, then He cared about the overwhelming death of that one book character that was breaking my heart, the disorganization of traveling and that little spark of hope inside of me that dared to believe that I really wanted that one thing that I’d been afraid of for so long and that had found me anyway.

So, as I read Carlstrom’s famous question again, I say, “Yes, God does know how to tie shoes.”

In the words of Anne Shirley, “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”

Aquinnah