Dirty Feet

Yesterday during circle time, I was teaching my first grade class about Jesus and the 12 Disciples. The book I was reading mentioned that one way that Jesus showed His love to his disciples (& his closest friends) was to wash their feet. Now, growing up in the "Christian circle," foot washing is familiar to me, thanks to multiple sermons on serving others, readings of the New Testament, and even a time on a missions trip where we were instructed to wash the feet of another. Yet, as I shared the story of Jesus' washing His disciples feet to my five and six year olds, I realized they had no idea of the significance. So I got a bit preachy and tried explaining how during Jesus' time, people wore sandals, walked long distances, and lived in an environment similar to a dusty desert. Although it was a nice history lesson for myself, the point I was trying to get across had yet to read the kids. I moved on to Plan B.

"Okay. This is what it would be like today. You know when your parents come home from work and they are really tired? They have had a long day and worked really hard, and at that moment they would just love a back massage."

BINGO! Their eyes lit up. "Or a bubble bath!" one girl shouted out. "In a big bathtub with jets!" another exclaimed. "A jacuzzi!" "With an ice cream sundae!" Now we were making progress...

I share this for 2 reasons. First, I just love children and the way their minds work. I love that they really do remember pretty much word for word what you say to them [this is also something I sometimes dislike]. Their hearts are so malleable, their minds so open to new ideas and hungry for knowledge. Every day I laugh and smile a lot, and want to take every single child into my arms and hold them tight, while simultaneously pulling my hair out. Second, there's a lot to be learned from the way Jesus served His disciples by washing their feet.

Living in America, we cling to our rights and celebrate freedom. From a young age, we began to exhibit our ability to say "yes" and more frequently, to proclaim "no." Although I cannot speak for an entire country, with such freedom comes an inherited sense of entitlement and expectation. We hold positions, we have titles, we earn degrees, we occupy a specific space, and we are hesitant to relinquishment any of it. Yet Jesus, the King of Kings, the Son of God, the Prince of Peace, washed dirty feet. And he didn't do it because he had to. He had no agenda to keep, no resume to build, no community service hours to complete. He loved those guys. In fact, he gave His life for those guys. Even the one who would betray Him. He washed the feet of the man partially responsible for His physical death. Amazing.

In three weeks, I go to Kenya. After five years of yearning and seeking, I will return to a place that holds a large portion of my heart. I expect the unexpected. I'm prepared to be unprepared. I know not what lies before me; I only know that the same Christ who washed his friends feet resides within me and has gone before me. I just pray and ask that my entire being will be used to love people and to bring God glory....my hands, my mind, my voice, my eyes and ears, my heart and soul, and my feet.

Jesus knew the feet he was washing would travel to many nations to tell of the good news. Lord, I pray these words over my time spent in Kenya:

1. Take my hands and let them move
   At the impulse of Thy love.
   Take my feet and let them be
   Swift and beautiful for Thee.
2. Take my voice and let me sing,
   Always, only for my King.
   Take my lips and let them be
   Filled with messages from Thee.