Dirt. Dust. Sweat. Heat… And lots of it. These are some of the things I encountered while visiting Granada, Nicaragua last week. I traveled there , along with many other parents to experience mission work. You see, my daughter, Susannah was completing her 7th month of an 11 month mission trip around the world . This month, the parents were invited to get a glimpse into what our sons and daughters have been experiencing day to day while spreading the love of Jesus to Africa, Asia and now, Central America.
One of the ministries we shared that week was prayer walking through the impoverished barrio of El Pantanal. Here, entire families lived without indoor plumbing, swept dirt floors in small, sometimes squalid huts, as they lived in a community with gangs, sickness and open sewage. Here, we found despair, skepticism and tears of lost hope. But among these tragedies were surprising glimpses of curiosity, brotherhood and optimism.
Questions abounded for me. Questions I am still processing, to be quite honest. How can these people smile? I asked myself.They are filthy, sick and live in a hovel. How can my daughter and her team encounter this poverty day after day and not feel overwhelmed with the immensity of desperation and discouragement here?
That first night, I struggled through a cold shower (hot water was non existent that week) and still felt the dirt and grime clinging to my body. Will I ever get clean this week? I wondered. My motivation for going there was entirely selfish. I wanted to be with my daughter, hug her, pamper her, have conversations face to face. This uncomfortableness would just have to be the price I paid to complete my goal, I thought.
The next day, we were scheduled to work on a farm. More dirt, even more dust accompanied by smothering heat. We spent a couple of hours swinging pick axes and machetes, digging up stubborn thorn tree roots to pave a way for more fertile planting of fruit trees that would help nourish the ministry there. Our Chaco clad feet were swollen, grungy and sunburned after our time on the farm.
The week went on with more ministry – helping prepare and serve a meal to children in El Pantanal, prayer services, bon fires, and some site seeing. The last night was spent back at the farm listening to testimony and reflecting on the week we had experienced together. But something else was on the agenda. Foot washing. Small foot washing stations were set up around the building with tubs of clean water, towels and chairs. I knew a little about the act of foot washing from the Bible. Jesus washed the feet of his disciples in the Upper Room just prior to the last supper. John 13 1-17
On the evening he was betrayed, Jesus “poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him” John 13:5
When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. ‘Do you understand what I have done for you?’ he asked them…..’Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you should also wash anothers’ feet.” (Verses 12, 14)
This symbolized Jesus’ humility and servanthood. But for the disciples, the washing of feet was in direct contrast to their heart attitudes at that time. They must have been stunned with their leader’s act of humility. In the days of dusty roads, open toed sandaled feet often became dirty, even encrusted with mud and it was the lowliest servants job to wash guests’ feet. But this humility, expressed with towel and basin foreshadowed Jesus’ ultimate act of humility and love on the cross.
It’s not easy having our feet washed by someone else. Feet can be embarrassingly ugly, have corns or bunions and even smell. It’s not easy to let others love us. But Jesus loves us unconditionally. He loves us not because we deserve it but because we need his love and he knows it.
As I sat in my chair and dipped my dirty feet into the cool water, my daughter knelt before me. She began gently massaging and cleansing my feet as she recounted the story of Jesus in the Upper Room. Her angelic face and humble expression struck me like a bolt of lightning. On bended knee, my daughter was showing me the love of Jesus. I could see his peace and understanding in her eyes. She was symbolizing her willingness to selflessly serve not just me -that night – but her commitment to a life long service to God, his church and mankind. Wow. This act represented her decision to leave everything comfortable and engage in community with all that is uncomfortable, actively dedicating herself to Jesus’ way of outgoing humble service toward others. This act was a reminder of that fundamental choice of servanthood.
So for me, out of the dust, dirt, grime, sweat, tears, sewage, cold showers and a whole bundle of other things that made me uncomfortable that week – at last, a feeling of peace.
The lesson here is that the washing of feet is a clear demonstration of Christ’s second great commandment to us – love your neighbor as thyself. Not just your neighbor, but everybody. The Lord wasn’t too good to deal with dirty people or difficult situations. My daughter and her team were the embodiment of that here in a poverty stricken, dirty and impoverished barrio in Nicaragua. What an example for me and my uncomfortableness during our ministry that week.
Thank you Adventures in Missions for providing this opportunity for me, a sometimes cynical, selfish and out of touch woman – to experience clarity in my discomfort. Out of the dust, my clarity is that love is a command and humility is the pathway to sharing that love with others.
-KT
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:34-35
