The Big Toenail

I stepped into the sanctuary, my heart heavy with a million questions and requests for the Lord. Life had been throwing curveballs, and I needed answers—big ones, small ones, and even the ones I didn’t fully understand myself. But amid all those concerns, one stubborn mystery had lingered in my mind: Why did my big toenail look like it had a fungal infection?

Now, I know what you’re thinking. With all the things going on in the world, was I really bringing my toenail before the Almighty? Yes. Yes, I was. Because if God cares about the number of hairs on my head, surely He wouldn’t ignore my afflicted toe, right?

As the service began, I heard a still, small voice whisper, “It’s the heels.”

I froze. The heels? What did my beloved shoes have to do with my struggling toenail? I decided to hold onto that thought and focus on the sermon, but my mind started playing a highlight reel of a friend who had also suffered from relentless fungal infections. She had tried every cream, every soak, and even some home remedies that involved garlic and coconut oil (bless her brave soul). Yet, the infection kept coming back. The only constant in her life? Her heels.

That night, curiosity got the best of me, and I did what every modern-day truth seeker does—I Googled it. I like to think of science as the study of proving what God already created, so I was eager to see if my divine download had any backing. Lo and behold, a medical blog confirmed it: High heels exert pressure on the big toenail, making it susceptible to fungal infections.

I sat there, stunned. Could it be that my struggle had been self-inflicted all along?

I looked at my shoe rack with a mix of betrayal and sorrow. Those heels had served me well—elevating my height, boosting my confidence, and making my outfits pop. But at what cost? At the cost of my big toe’s dignity, that’s what!

It was a moment of reckoning. I realized that sometimes, we hold onto things that look good but are actually hurting us. We squeeze into uncomfortable situations (or shoes), convincing ourselves that we can manage, only to suffer consequences later. My heels weren’t just a fashion choice—they were a life lesson in disguise.

So, I made a decision. I adjusted my footwear, started giving my toes the breathing room they deserved, and even worked on reducing a bit of weight to ease the pressure. And just like that, my fungal woes disappeared.

The lesson? Sometimes, the root of our problems isn’t as deep as we think—it’s just sitting at our feet, literally.

Now, every time I see someone strutting confidently in a pair of sky-high heels, I smile, whisper a little prayer for their toenails, and resist the urge to yell, “Sister, save yourself!” Because truly, what does it profit a woman to gain three inches of height but lose her toenail in the process?