Every other Friday night, our squad, along with the base staff here, have a 12-hour prayer night. We begin the night by worshiping together as a group, and lead into prayer. Each person on the squad and each staff member has a specific time through the night, set aside to pray, so while we don’t all pray for twelve hours straight, no matter what time you walk into the room, there will always be people in there praying, and we end the night with one final hour of worship all together.
This morning, as we all gathered back together at 6:30am for our last hour of worship, our squad leadership announced that they wanted to wash our feet. our feet, covered in ant bites, lined with a sandals tan, spots scabbed over from the bites we itch too much, with dirt on the bottom that I’m convinced is permanent at this point. those are the feet they wanted to wash. to give us a picture of how Jesus loves, serves, and sacrifices for His people.
“Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. He laid aside His outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around His waist. Then He poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around Him.” (John 13:3-5)
Jesus self-sacrificially washed the disciples feet because He knew “He had come from God, and was going back to God.” He sacrificed because He knew His purpose, and He knew His home.
As my feet were being washed, my leader prayed for me saying, “Lord, even when she gets tired and weary, I pray she remembers that these feet are Yours.” the prayer continued but that promise stuck out to me. Even my very own feet, part of my physical body, the part that allows me to stand and balance and run and walk, even my feet are not my own. they belong to the Father.
As I continue to think about that today, I’m struck by how easy it is to get tired and weary, and then let the tiredness and the weariness the be the end of that story.
Jesus stooped to wash our feet, and kneeled to pray before our Father, before shedding His blood for our sins, on display for all to see, and then rose again in full glory, defeated every obstacle this world could present, including death itself. and by His death and resurrection, we are now raised to life again in Him.
So who are we to stop as our Jesus serves?
Sometimes our Savior urges us to push through with a heart of steadfastness, to keep going when we want to stop, sometimes He sees what we’re doing, sees how we’re falling into laziness, and He asks us for more. and sometimes still, He calls us to rest our tired feet.
Serving in the kingdom isn’t a black and white list, but it is sacrificial. Love does usually mean denying yourself. Serving does mean taking up your own cross and following Jesus.
I ask Jesus to draw me closer to Himself, I tell Him I want to serve Him, that I love Him and want all I do to be for His glory and not my own. So how can I, then, deny my own request to Jesus when it gets hard?
If serving Him, if being closer to the Creator and King of the universe, means taking up my cross, then I want to do it. if living in humidity so strong that even your watercolors don’t dry teaches me His patience, then it’s worth it. If losing soccer games to people who speak a different language means recognizing the power of the gospel, then it’s worth it. If getting up at 5am to make breakfast for the squad means getting to spend two more hours in the morning hearing about how He’s working in the lives of the people around you, then that’s worth it too.
Serving will always be worth it. Not because of our service. But because we’re serving the One who served us first, the One who gives us hope of an eternal home, the One who knelt and washed the feet of His people, the same people that He died to save.
My prayer today is that no matter how hard or easy our week ahead becomes, that we choose to step out of our way to serve. Because our Savior served us first. and after all, these feet are His now.
