At My Feet

How long has it been since you looked at your feet?

I mean really looked at them! After all, your feet are the true decision makers throughout the day. You can think all you like about what you want to be doing, or where you should be going, but the ultimate decision will be made by your feet. If they are very tired, then although your desire may be to take a walk and burn off a few more calories, chances are you won't get very far. Your tired feet will win the argument and you'll remain sitting on the couch with the winners resting happily propped up on the footstool.

We don't look at our feet so much up here in North Dakota. We like to keep them warm. And keeping the feet in warm socks and well-insulated boots is a must if you plan to walk outside into the -20 degree weather in January. And then there is the mud, too. You won't want to walk out in the fields unless you have some good working boots. But you won't want to walk in the house with those working boots on, either. In fact, if you stay in a motel in western North Dakota you may see a polite sign on the door asking you to take your work boots off and carry them up to the room. You see, the guest workers that go out to work in the oil fields know just exactly how much dirt and grime we can get on our feet.

I look forward all year to the time that Jesus washes my feet. My feet have been wallowing in the mud all year long. Maybe that's what we tend to do sometimes. We wallow. I should have done this or said that and I failed. Wallow. I missed my chance to help someone or worse yet, remained oblivious to their need for my help. Wallow. I really, really shouldn't have said those words or had those thoughts or gone to those awful places. By the time we get through lent we are pretty much covered in it. And although it's important to become aware of our sinfulness, wallowing in it is another matter entirely.

Pigs wallow. I've always been a bit fascinated with pigs. It all started with my first (and last) ride on a pig. Being the headstrong little one that I was, I was convinced that I could ride the pig in the pen. With our farmer friend standing right by me, I got on the pig and from what I am told was pulled off a few seconds after. As an adult, I wasn't quite as fascinated when the folks next door decided to raise pigs on their property. One thing I did notice though, as I looked over the fence was that pigs wallow. If their owners wash them down as they should, pigs will stay fairly presentable and remain much healthier. But if not, the mud stays caked on them while they just keep getting dirtier, with layer after layer of mud.

Jesus knows how we have a tendency to wallow. And that is why I look forward to meeting Jesus in the Upper Room on Holy Thursday. Because I will go there and commune with Jesus. Then Jesus will kneel down to wash my feet. I won't want Him to because, like Peter, I will feel that it's not his place to wash my feet. But I know He has to. I know that unless I allow Him to wash the dirt from my feet, that I am not prepared to make the trip to the foot of the cross where He will wash the sin from my soul. And unless I meet Him at the cross I am not prepared to make the trip to the tomb on Easter.

As I try to find my way to the empty tomb, I see a long country road. It's covered in snow. And then I know that all I need to do is take my muddy feet and walk through the snow. It's a long walk, but as I go I will see the snow clean the dirt off my feet with every step. And I can no longer get lost because at the end of the road is the risen Son, and the joy everlasting.