I sat in the warmth of this afternoon thinking about the box of dirty shoes that needed to be washed before the church yard sale on Sunday. An abundance of cleats, and indoor soccer shoes – some gently worn, some caked in red clay – were staring me down as I swallowed my steaming vegetable soup over rice.
Normally, I really enjoy these behind the scenes tasks. I’m happy to wash, hang, dry, paint, organize, count, clean. But, to be honest, I wasn’t overly pumped about scrubbing cleats today. To be honest, I was hoping someone else would volunteer to scrape crusty mud from those hard-to-reach places with the giant nail file – one that would have greatly assisted Andy Dufresne in his prison break.
But can I tell you something? Those thoughts of, “I don’t really want to do this.” didn’t stick around very long. Almost immediately, I felt the nudge of the Holy Spirit whisper, “These shoes are my shoes. The feet that will slide into these cleats, big and small, are my feet. Will you wash my shoes? Will you wash my feet?”
The Spirit reminds me, I don’t serve and love others just when I want to – because how often would that really be? I serve and love others because I have been served and loved, and I want my life to be one of service and love in return. I know a man who modeled extravagant, foolish, self-sacrificing love. I know a man who poured Himself and His love into all of His moments; seen or unseen, glamorous or red-clay-crusty. He would gladly pick up these cleats and turn on the faucet.
I remember how Jesus bent low, took hold of the towel, filled the basin, and washed away dirt, grime, and unworthiness. When I remember Jesus, I can wash these shoes. When I remember Jesus, I want to wash these shoes.
Jennie Kate and I spent an hour scrubbing and rinsing. She played her favorite road trip playlist as we worked; talking about her family and her love of elephants. Did you know elephants require a whole lot of nail care? No? Well, they do. They’re actually kind of divas. Cute, cute divas.
We laughed about country music artists and all things southern, and she gave me new perspective on the importance of the circus and zoos. Before we knew it, each cleat was clean. Shoes we had found brown were restored to their original colors, and we set them out to dry.
Before heading inside, we each placed a hand on the shoes and a hand on each other. We prayed words of thanks and blessing aloud; blessings over the many feet that would find their way into these shoes, and thanks for this reminder to humbly serve, to love from behind and below.
“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
