The guy with his right shoe untied.

I know I accepted the label when she used it.  I almost embraced it.  It does describe me.

Sometimes.

But more often than not, both of my shoes are tied—tied in neat square-knot bows. I often walk down the sidewalk without the tell-tale skritch-skritch-skritch of shoelace aglets dragging along the concrete.

My identity is not found exclusively in my untied right shoe.

Sometimes, my identity is found in the angry words that flood from my mouth when the person in front of me demonstrates an insufficiency in driving skills.  I’m confident if I asked the question again of the Lovely Lady at those times, she would answer it differently than she did the other night.  There would be no mention of the condition of my right shoe.

“Sure.  I know who you are!  You’re the man who has never learned to control his temper in traffic.“

She has not said those words to me.  But, she could.  I know they would be accurate sometimes.

I’m not proud of it.  I even told her the other day (without her prodding me whatsoever) how sorry I am not to have conquered that bad habit.

Sin.

I should call it what it is.

“People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish,  but no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison.”  (James 3:7-8, NLT)

So sometimes, I am the guy with his mouth full of poison. Spitting it with great accuracy like a cobra.

Then again, I can often be found speaking gently to folks and even offering a helping hand if they have need of it.  I have days when not a single angry or disparaging word leaves the vicinity of my mouth.

I have admitted, repeatedly, that I am not the man I had hoped to be by now.  Daily, I see ways in which I could make improvements.

“Please be patient with me; God isn’t finished with me yet.”

I remember hearing the phrase when I was a teenager.  It has become a bit trite now, as if an excuse for actions and attitudes.  But it’s not.

Both confession and prayer—the words admit fault while looking to a future and a loving Father from which improvement will come.

The apostle, my namesake, said it this way:

“I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” (Philippians 1:6, NLT)

If that doesn’t give one hope, I don’t know what will.

And, that’s an identity I’ll claim.  If you need words to describe me, say this:

“I know you!  You’re the guy with hope for what’s still ahead!”

Hopeful.

Because He’s not done with me yet.

And, never will be.

My right shoe won’t come untied forever.  The poison will be gone from my mouth one day.  I’ll not struggle with sexual thoughts, or hateful attitudes, or doubts and frustration.

It’s a promise to all He draws to Himself.

So it belongs to you as much as it does to me.

Patience.  And hope.

Mostly, hope.

 

“Numbers and photographs do not a person make.
I’m more than what a page can say of me.
My identity is not in my history.
All the best of me is in my dreams.”
(from A Voice, by Kat Edmonson)

 

“But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!” (Galatians 5:23-24, NLT)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2025. All Rights Reserved.