I'm not much of a girly-girl. Anyone who knows me can verify this fact.
In middle school I was way more likely to be up in a tree than painting my nails. I wore boy jeans and adopted boy clothing styles for most of high school because I didn't like the way girly clothes were so fitted. I really didn't start wearing make-up (occasionally) until I had graduated college.
But there is one thing about me that has been girly for most of my life. I hate dirty feet. Just my own. I really don't care what state your feet are in... but mine... HAVE to be clean... and soft.
I spend a lot of my summers at various camps and I keep a washcloth by my bunk so I can wash the dirty camp floor gross-ies off of my feet just before sliding them into my sleeping bag.
Because of this single bit girly-ness and my love for missions I have always really liked Romans 10:14-15. The verse talks about sharing the love of Christ with those who have never heard the Gospel and it ends with the oh-so-popular line, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring Good News of Good Things."
Beautiful feet. ::sigh:: I get a little relaxed just thinking the phrase. Beautiful, clean, soft, perfectly pedicured feet. With dainty toes, probably a brightly colored polish and a cute design on the big toe. Ahh.... :-)
During this past trip to India God allowed me a little object lesson about the way He and I see things. You see, I was pretty crabby one day. I was very hot, very tired and was at the point where everything seemed to annoy me.
AND... my feet were nasty! In India it is respectful to remove your shoes before entering a building. (In some places we would see piles of shoes in the street next to a shop door.) So everyday when we arrived at the church to do ministry we would remove our shoes and spend the day barefoot. My feet were gross. Even with washing them when we got back to the hotel and again before I got in bed, they stayed pretty nasty for most of the trip.
During my little crabby afternoon I put myself in time-out. When I was younger my parents used to inform me when I needed an attitude adjustment. Now that I'm an adult I occasionally need to inform those around me that I need an attitude adjustment and put myself in time out for a little while.
While I was in my self-imposed time-out my stream of consciousness went something like this, "I'm hot! I'm so tired! My feet are SO gross! (Whine, whine whine.)"
Then I started pray-whining. (I know, it's super lame, but this is what happens inside my head.) "God, I'm tired. Why did you let me get sick yesterday? My feet hurt and are really gross, God. Why do we have to take our shoes off? Couldn't you just let them not be offended and we keep out shoes on? We're here to do this for YOU anyway."
Then I recalled the Romans verse which I like so much. This part is super lame... don't try to use God's Word against Him... it just rarely works out the way you want it too.
"God you said people who do missions would have beautiful feet. My feet are not beautiful!"
Then something happened. In what I am learning is His trade-mark-gentleness I felt the Holy Spirit whisper in my chest. "They are to me."
Whoa! What?!? I was having a perfectly good little pity-party and then my thoughts were forced to other bits of scripture that I couldn't use against God.
David, the shepherd boy that Jesse didn't even bring into the house when Samuel came looking for the next king. I imagine Jesse might have said to himself, "David? David is not King material."
"He is to me."
The little basket of fish and bread. The disciples are looking for food and this little guy tugs at their robes. "Jesus can have this." Peter smirks, "Kid, that's not enough to feed me, let alone all these people." I wonder if Jesus grinned,
"It is for me... Hey Pete, watch this!"
Then Isaiah 55:8 "My thoughts are not your thoughts, your ways are not my ways."
So, do you want to know what Romans 10 beautiful feet look like? To me... they look like this:
But to God, I think they may look like this:
In middle school I was way more likely to be up in a tree than painting my nails. I wore boy jeans and adopted boy clothing styles for most of high school because I didn't like the way girly clothes were so fitted. I really didn't start wearing make-up (occasionally) until I had graduated college.
But there is one thing about me that has been girly for most of my life. I hate dirty feet. Just my own. I really don't care what state your feet are in... but mine... HAVE to be clean... and soft.
I spend a lot of my summers at various camps and I keep a washcloth by my bunk so I can wash the dirty camp floor gross-ies off of my feet just before sliding them into my sleeping bag.
Because of this single bit girly-ness and my love for missions I have always really liked Romans 10:14-15. The verse talks about sharing the love of Christ with those who have never heard the Gospel and it ends with the oh-so-popular line, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring Good News of Good Things."
Beautiful feet. ::sigh:: I get a little relaxed just thinking the phrase. Beautiful, clean, soft, perfectly pedicured feet. With dainty toes, probably a brightly colored polish and a cute design on the big toe. Ahh.... :-)
During this past trip to India God allowed me a little object lesson about the way He and I see things. You see, I was pretty crabby one day. I was very hot, very tired and was at the point where everything seemed to annoy me.
AND... my feet were nasty! In India it is respectful to remove your shoes before entering a building. (In some places we would see piles of shoes in the street next to a shop door.) So everyday when we arrived at the church to do ministry we would remove our shoes and spend the day barefoot. My feet were gross. Even with washing them when we got back to the hotel and again before I got in bed, they stayed pretty nasty for most of the trip.
During my little crabby afternoon I put myself in time-out. When I was younger my parents used to inform me when I needed an attitude adjustment. Now that I'm an adult I occasionally need to inform those around me that I need an attitude adjustment and put myself in time out for a little while.
While I was in my self-imposed time-out my stream of consciousness went something like this, "I'm hot! I'm so tired! My feet are SO gross! (Whine, whine whine.)"
Then I started pray-whining. (I know, it's super lame, but this is what happens inside my head.) "God, I'm tired. Why did you let me get sick yesterday? My feet hurt and are really gross, God. Why do we have to take our shoes off? Couldn't you just let them not be offended and we keep out shoes on? We're here to do this for YOU anyway."
Then I recalled the Romans verse which I like so much. This part is super lame... don't try to use God's Word against Him... it just rarely works out the way you want it too.
"God you said people who do missions would have beautiful feet. My feet are not beautiful!"
Then something happened. In what I am learning is His trade-mark-gentleness I felt the Holy Spirit whisper in my chest. "They are to me."
Whoa! What?!? I was having a perfectly good little pity-party and then my thoughts were forced to other bits of scripture that I couldn't use against God.
David, the shepherd boy that Jesse didn't even bring into the house when Samuel came looking for the next king. I imagine Jesse might have said to himself, "David? David is not King material."
"He is to me."
The little basket of fish and bread. The disciples are looking for food and this little guy tugs at their robes. "Jesus can have this." Peter smirks, "Kid, that's not enough to feed me, let alone all these people." I wonder if Jesus grinned,
"It is for me... Hey Pete, watch this!"
Then Isaiah 55:8 "My thoughts are not your thoughts, your ways are not my ways."
So, do you want to know what Romans 10 beautiful feet look like? To me... they look like this:
But to God, I think they may look like this:
My mom snapped this pic on Sunday morning. It is the feet of a young Indian woman who is kneeling in prayer during church. I wonder if to God beautiful feet are feet that are submitted to Christ. Feet that look for ways to take His Name to places that haven't heard it. And I'm just not sure it is possible to do that without getting them dirty.
Wow, Karen. Beautiful post about not-so-beautiful feet. I looked at the feet of many Indian pastors in places we were last year--hardened, calloused, scarred, dirty, deformed in some cases. Walking many miles barefoot for the Gospel. Don't forget--Russ has none at all. Well, carbon fiber ones... God sees them all as beautiful. Thank you for your thoughts.
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