We all do this. Admit it. We enter the far end of the Target parking lot and immediately begin scanning the area.

For a friend? No.

To absorb the beauty of the concrete jungle around us? Definitely not. For the first parking spot that we notice? Not a chance.

For the closest-to-the-front-door-probably-closed-in-by-poorly-parked-vehicles spot that is three rows and 15 aimlessly wandering pedestrians away? Yes.

We are more than willing to spend the extra minutes driving too and fro as long as it all ends in a spot as feasibly close to the store entrance as we can get. We spend more time making sure we walk as little as possible than we would have spent had we just parked at the first spot we came upon and made our way inside.

I used to be the queen of the parking lot crawl. It even got to the point where I would do this same thing when parking at the gym. Yep. Before an hour spent working my body to its last bit of strength, I made sure to not have to walk the extra 500 feet for fear of being something other than lazy for once.

Reality check, my friends.

We have two beautifully functioning, nicely pedicured, well shoed feet that can get us wherever we please. Two feet that have, time and time again, served us well during long days, tedious days, chill days, and exciting days. I cannot speak for every one of us, but for the most of us, those two feet and the legs they are buddies with are more than capable of getting us where we need to go.

Not something that you really spend much time thinking about, is it? You are probably wondering why I am even making such a big deal of the two stinkers in the first place.

Honestly y'all, I had not thought so much about my own two feet until a summer of perspective-change took me by complete surprise about a month ago.

I spend the hours between 7 a.m. and 4 p.m. every day working at a Children's Hospital in a gait lab. Gait in this context refers to walking patterns as opposed to gate which is the part of a fence that swings open. Working in a gait lab means that I do research and help collect data for little kiddos who do not have this freedom to walk that we so often take for granted. Some kids we see can get around with as little as ankle orthotics. Other kids cannot so much as take a single step without a walker to help stabilize their body underneath them. This past Tuesday morning, I was in the operating roomwith a sweet little boy who woke up Tuesday evening with one less leg than he went into surgery with.

Many of these children do not have control of their own ability to walk because of injury, congenital defects, or progressive diseases. They do not get to decide to use their legs a little extra and take the long way to the neighborhood coffee shop. They are not debating whether or not they should go on a five or a six mile run this afternoon. They most certainly are not choosing the parking spot furthest from the store entrance.

These smiling faces get stoked when they come to our lab for treadmill training that will take some weight off of their body so they can use their muscles in ways they never have before. They are over the moon and giggling as they watch their legs move on their own. Sweat drops trickle down their little faces because they are giving every bit of their energy to just take one. more. step.

Talk about inspiring and convicting all wrapped into one crazy emotional encounter.

I see this daily and am dumbstruck at how frequently I take for granted what my body can do for me. I cannot say for certain, but I believe I am not alone in this attitude of laziness, of not considering how blessed I am to get the option to go and do as I please.

We are seriously so blessed to have healthy bodies, friends. We wake up each morning and sooner question the unwanted tummy roll or the unruly hair or the less than desirable stature than we praise the Lord for the legs that got us to the mirror and mind that wanders with childlike enthusiasm and the heart that lets us feel life's every twist and turn.

The health we get to enjoy is not a guarantee-- it is a gift. There are always going to be things about our lives that are less than ideal. I can think of 50 things right now that fall into that category in my own life. But at the end of the day, leaving all the minutia behind, everything you have not taken a second's time to be thankful for is everything on some other person's list of prayers.

Your life is beautiful (Jeremiah 29:11), your body is a work of art (Psalm 139:13-14), and every day full of breaths in and out is a miracle (James 4:14). That is simple truth and it is in my deepest desires that we are able to fully comprehend how true those statements are for each of us.

It would be a darn shame to let our days full of ability fly by us while our friends living with a disability can only wish to have the ambulatory freedom we toss on the wayside so regularly.

So next time, how about we all choose the worst parking spot, if not for any reason other than the fact that we can.

Praising the Lord for my own health and praying for health to flood the lives of all of us in need of it.