Red Boots

My dad loved snow more than any person I've ever known. Living in the south, we don't get snow very often and when we do there's not very much of it. Snowflakes bring with them a sense of wonder and magic when they fall in Georgia and when I was growing up every time it snowed my dad would arrive at my front door, beeming from ear to ear, to deliver a brand new pair of shiny red snow boots. I can only imagine the joy it brought my dad to give me those boots. I most likely only wore each pair of those boots one time since snow doesn't last very long in north Georgia. That didn't matter to my dad. He loved snow, he loved me, and those little red boots brought as much happiness to my daddy as they did me.

I really didn't think a lot about those boots and the sacrifice my dad made to go out into the snow and purchase them for me until recently. In fact, the loving, unrequested gift of those boots is the perfect picture of the sacrifice my Heavenly Father made for me. Just as the red boots covered my feet and protected them, Christ's blood covers my sin and ensures eternal protection for my soul. The crimson blood of Christ washed me as white as the snow that I played in as a little girl.

It is my prayer that I stay focused on the precious gift of salvation and that every time I see a pair of red boots I am reminded of the sacrifice my Heavenly Father made to purchase eternal life for me.