Cinderella and Her Fiberglass Slippers

I have cold feet, and it has nothing to do with being afraid of entering into a nuptial arrangement. Heck, we jumped onto that amusement park ride some thirty years ago. No, I actually have cold feet; literally. My husband can readily testify to this brutal fact.

So cold sometimes my husband, James, has often marveled that gangrene hasn’t set in. I’ve told him—I don’t know how many times—he should simply “offer it up” when I unwittingly place the ice blocks against him as he is just drifting off to sleep. Good, old-fashioned, Catholic penance. He prefers, however, to be more proactive.

My prince charming says I need some special slippers, and has several prototypes in the works. He’s got one mockup of some fiberglass models with, what he tells me, have an R factor of 36 (whatever that means). The other involves me “wearing” a propane tank. It does have some merit; but, it’s difficult to recline with the apparatus, and I did scorch the coffee table once when crossing my legs.

However, the trivial matters of slippers and table scorching are not what’s significant here. More importantly is the incredibly valuable gift I present to him each evening: an opportunity to grow in holiness. Ordinary holiness. Believe it or not, married couples have a bevy of fortunate circumstances to grow in sanctity when it comes to dealing with each other, and with the kids for that matter. The demands of lawn mowing and alarm clocks, dinner dishes and toilet scrubbing, pep talks and shoulder massages come on you like a rapid fire machinegun. All day. Every day. And when you’re in the trenches of life, that’s when the advancement in ordinary holiness happens.

We tend to have it in our minds that the road to sainthood must include levitation or burning at the stake. But that kind of opportunity doesn’t seem to present itself as often as one might think, and frankly, I’d prefer toilet scrubbing to crucifixion, thank you. So what are normal, everyday, average people supposed to do? I’ll tell you. It’s in the warming of feet with patience and love. (My husband is going to get a gold star in Heaven for how well he’s mastered this one.) It’s in all the little, seemingly insignificant things that fly under the radar all the time and have more value than we could ever imagine. It goes contrary to all the ways of the world, but God has never put much store in flashy displays and attention-getting antics.

Husband, Wives, God is calling you to sainthood and He is giving you this beautiful, self-sacrificing road there: marriage. If done correctly, this holy arrangement makes the devil flee in fright. Why do you think this incredible sacrament is under so much attack these days? Make no mistake, these blessed unions are “the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). And although the devil has a full-court press going now to extinguish it, we must let this light shine for all to see.

I realize that on this Catholic website I am pretty much preaching to the choir, but I just want to remind you again how important it is to take all these priceless opportunities for self-sacrifice today and unite them to the Cross of Jesus. Just pause for a moment right now, and think on the little inconveniences you’ve had to put up with today, the demands on your time, and the ways you have put the well-being of someone else ahead of yourself. As one, big, Body of Christ, let’s join ranks and offer up our little, seemingly insignificant but immensely powerful crosses for the conversion of sinners, for peace in our world, for a turning back to God. Because, it is in these little ways that we can change the world.

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a mountain cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and then put it under a bushel basket; it is set on a lampstand, where it gives light to all in the house. Just so, your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father” Matthew 5:14-16.