Bumped into a former major league pitcher in a store a few years ago. I recognized him much sooner than he recognized me. Between you and me I kinda’ got the feeling he didn’t recognize me at all. But to be fair to him, it is asking a lot of a fella’ to expect him to remember that I was sitting in the seventh row one night when he pitched in Cincinnati. Especially in light of the fact that he pitched in front of millions of people over his lengthy career.

But as we talked about his career and what he was doing since he retired, I glanced down at the floor and noticed he was wearing a pair of boots that looked rather dapper. They looked major league. Conversation was stalling a bit, so it was either comment on the boots or tell him about the time I pitched in little league and I plunked two, walked two and got yanked.

I really think he appreciated me asking about his boots, because he went on to tell me that he had bought them at a famous boot shop in New York City and that they were made out of kangaroo-butt or something unique like that. And that they were so comfortable that he wears them everywhere. We chatted a few more minutes and then shook hands. He went his way and I went mine. My way happened to be directly to the boot department to see if I could find for myself what he had found for himself.

I have never been much of a boot man except for those rain boots with metal buckles that are passed down for five or six generations. But I became a boot man that day. His boots looked like a pair of boots that a real man would wear. I think I may have mentioned this earlier, but they looked major league.

Anyway, I strolled into the boot department and was promptly greeted with a “May I help you find something?”

After I thanked him for asking, I proceeded to ask if he had any boots that were made out of kangaroo-butt or something similar. Evidently, the fella’ was new because he led me up one row and down another looking for something that had been made in Australia.

We looked at boots with steel toes and boots with pointed toes. Boots with rounded toes and some with leather straps and rings. We looked at boots for cowboys and cowgirls and a couple of minutes later he confessed that he “didn’t think that he had anything in the kangaroo.”

But I did find a pair I liked. Not exactly like the former big leaguer had, but they were close enough that I felt rather major league in them myself.

So I tried ‘em on and left ‘em on and started toward the home on the range. Almost got ran over in the parking lot because I was looking down at my boots more than the traffic. But several thousand steps from the store I began to realize that maybe…..just maybe….I should have saved up and held out for the kangaroo material, because my new boots…..well…..they hurt my feet…..they made me limp. I didn’t wear them past the warranty before I gave them to a buddy who owned a farm and I felt they would be happier there than in the city.

But those boots taught me a lot about limps. Specifically, we all have some kind of a limp in our lives. Something that slows us down and snags our progress.

Not the outward limp that can be seen from a distance and can make progress difficult and painful. But our inward limps….the limps of our hearts….the civil war of our souls.

A highly credible man who teaches me every week recently said it this way…..

“I have not met a man yet that doesn’t struggle with something. Pride, greed, lust, anger, jealousy…..something that they constantly do battle with.”

Those words encourage me. I guess I am not abnormal. I am not double minded in all my ways. I am just a man with a limp.

Don’t give in my friend…..keep fighting…..keep limping…..it’s OK.