"Life is too short to wear tight shoes."

This intriguing phrase was on a card I received in the mail at college from Mom, who had given up her favorite pair of boots because I had "borrowed" and worn them so frequently while I was home during Christmas break that they no longer fit her feet properly. The unwritten point: The boots are now yours. And, deeper than that: I do not regret sacrificing them for you. I value you, my child, far more than footwear.

This small but telling experience came to mind the next summer, as I sat outdoors on my lunch hour, reading a book in the sun. My feet were propped up on a chair, ensconced in sandals dressy enough for work, yet roomy enough to relieve the ailments of 7 a.m.-to-7 p.m. high-heel-squished office feet. It was my first day wearing the sandals; if my mother had not suggested them to me, I might still be in the heels. In fact, I would probably still be in my cubicle, eating lunch at my desk. I never even would have purchased them. Mom was right: Life is too short to wear tight shoes -- and too short to be working through a lunch hour.

That is only one of many lessons my rocky heart has received from giving, caring people. Through this and other experiences, a tapestry has formed in my soul, an image of what true living is about.

"How we spend our days, of course, is how we spend our lives." Annie Dillard said that, but I wonder if part of the reason it resonates so deeply with me is because of the way I want to live. I don’t want to be ruled by The Urgent: those pesky little tasks that will not matter two months from now yet somehow manage to distract me from more soul-feeding adventures and disciplines.

Recently, my Mom adopted the motto, "If it’s not fun, why do it?" To her -- and now me -- that phrase means something quite different from "living for the moment." It’s a recognition that everything worth doing is worth enjoying, or at least feeling a sense of purpose or gratification. Life is too precious to spend so much of ourselves on being angry, feeling guilty or worrying about things over which we have no control.

To truly live out that truth would be absolute freedom in God. To take one step closer to that ideal is a gift in itself.

I have learned that the most freedom is possessed by those who have "fallen on the Rock and been broken." "Falling" and "breaking" don’t sound very pleasant, until you realize that the alternative is the long, draining work of fighting to remain blind to your own selfishness and blindness, and eventually having the Rock fall on you, crushing you to powder. Then it’s clear that there is only one way to live: in surrender to God Almighty. I trust the judgment and advice of Christians who are peaceful and free, not simply because they has more life experience than me, but because they have been taught by the Best.

This year, I will give myself a gift: I will pause, and open my heart to the Grace that God has been offering for so long.

That is, as soon as I am done writing cards and shopping for presents!