Last night, I was lying in bed under a sheet, a blanket, and a heavy quilt. The thermostat was set at 70 degrees. My body was warm but my feet were freezing, despite the fact that I was wearing a thick pair of socks. This problem with my feet has been going on for years and you would think that I’d be used to it by now, but it still really aggravates me. Sometimes I get down right angry about it.
Then this morning, I was scrolling through Facebook and saw this picture and headline.
Suddenly, I felt guilty for even being a slight bit bothered by my cold feet. I do know what it feels like to have severely swollen and painful feet, but my feet have never been my sole means of transportation. I have never had to depend on my feet to get me out of a war zone. When I walk, I always know where I’m going and that I will be accepted at my final destination. Last night I was irritated that my feet were so cold that they felt like they were burning, but this person stopped feeling her feet a few days ago, but said “I’m good.”
Life is all about perspective and this morning my perspective got a much needed jolt.