The Night My Mom Heard God

This story is about my mom, a pair of shoes, and God.

When my mom was in her early eighties, the doctor told her she should stop wearing her favorite shoes—sandals and flats—and switch to something with more support and stability to avoid falling.

My mom was what people used to call a “fixie” woman, meaning she always looked her best: hair neatly combed, a touch of makeup, lipstick, and earrings first thing in the morning, whether she was going out or staying at home. Wearing what she called “ugly shoes” wasn’t something she fancied, but she eventually found a compromise in a pair that gave her support but weren’t too ugly.

On one of my daily phone calls, she told me that God had spoken to her in the middle of the night. When I asked what she meant, she explained that the day before, she’d been out shopping and spotted a pair of shoes she loved. Even though she knew they didn’t pass the safe-shoe test, she decided to buy them anyway and planned to wear them only on special occasions.

That night, she said she woke up suddenly and sat straight up in bed. That’s when she heard a stern voice say, “Edna Mae, take those shoes back.”

She didn’t question it. She said she knew it was God. And as much as she wanted those shoes, she returned them first thing that morning.

I cherish that she told me this story. She was certain it was real, and she never tried to explain it away as a dream. My mom was a believer—she felt God was with her every day—and I think she figured if He came to her like that, He meant business, and she wasn’t going to poo-poo it.

Whether we call it God, Spirit, the Universe, or something else, maybe It comes to us more often than we realize in small, subtle, guiding ways. Maybe we’d hear it, too, if we just woke up and listened.