If there’s one thing I’m certain of coming to the end of my fourth month on the race, my feet will never truly feel clean. In Indian culture before you enter a home you always remove any footwear and since our ministry resides inside homes, my feet are bare 90% of the time here. In my vain attempts to clean them and baby wipe away the dirt, it still remains. The cracks on my heels are no longer pink, but are instead filled with black grime and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I thankful for dirty feet because…
I’m spending over 30 minutes chasing Elijah* around the outside downstairs as he gives me a smirk that says “I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m having fun making you chase me.”
I’m walking down the stairs taking Jasmine* and Dinah* to the trampoline to bounce and jump.
I’m on the floor picking up 3 year old Isaiah* and helping him learn to crawl and grab his favorite toys.
I’m swinging Mae* in the chair as she decided whether she wants to answer my questions like, “what are 3 things you eat?”
I’m pushing the boys on their ride around cars and cycles on the roof as smiles form from cheek to cheek.
I’m getting enveloped in a hug while on the floor of the balcony as Elijah crawls forward and lays his head on my heart.
I’m dancing holding tiny Mae as we twirl on the floor and she tells me, “upside down” as giggles erupt.
I’m darting across the room blowing bubbles so all the boys can see them and watching their faces light up as they float across the room.
I’m jumping on the trampoline with Dinah as I sing “The Wheels on the Bus” and she thinks it’s the greatest song ever as she gives me a big beautiful smile.
I’m teaching Jasmine to hold a brush and comb her hair by herself, even the effort is worthwhile.
When we look beyond the messy and gross things in life and learn to appreciate them for what they are, we see God’s hand on them…dirty feet and all.
“How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” Rm 10:15b
