The crushing blow of Adam’s sin and the seductive tone of Eve haunt the human way of life. So horrible are we with such sinful lives. At times, we don’t even realize the ugliness we have committed to ourselves and to others. My own heart is sick within. I’m so unworthy, so unclean, and so unfaithful to my Lord in so many ways. My mind is downtrodden and my spirit crushed because the perfectionist anal achiever in this woman’s body knows I can never be what I’d like to think I am while I walk this Earth. I’m human. I am sinful. I need Jesus!
My eyes were fixed upon the cross which stood boldly draped in purple cloth. I listened to the sermon and my soul was hushed to humbleness as the passage of Jesus washing His disciple’s feet in the upper room was read. The gentle hands of my healer which would soon bear the piercing pain of the nail and hammer, took a moment to be the slave and serve the imperfect sinner. I wonder, did His hair touch there leg as He bent to cup His hand to bath the dirty sandal clad foot? Did He lock eyes with the ones He washed and did the shadow of the cross reflect in His pupil?
But then it was time, time to do to one another what Jesus had done with His disciples at the last supper. As I entered the candle lit room, nervousness fell upon me. Wash the feet of another and let another was mine? Did I shave? Would sock fuzz be stuck between my toes? But then those anxious thoughts dissipated as voices began to sing in the quiet silence. The sound of trickling water poured on one another’s feet, kneeling, washing, hugging, and tears could all be seen and heard. Peace, what glorious peace did abound!
My eyes were fixed upon the cross which stood boldly draped in purple cloth. I listened to the sermon and my soul was hushed to humbleness as the passage of Jesus washing His disciple’s feet in the upper room was read. The gentle hands of my healer which would soon bear the piercing pain of the nail and hammer, took a moment to be the slave and serve the imperfect sinner. I wonder, did His hair touch there leg as He bent to cup His hand to bath the dirty sandal clad foot? Did He lock eyes with the ones He washed and did the shadow of the cross reflect in His pupil?
But then it was time, time to do to one another what Jesus had done with His disciples at the last supper. As I entered the candle lit room, nervousness fell upon me. Wash the feet of another and let another was mine? Did I shave? Would sock fuzz be stuck between my toes? But then those anxious thoughts dissipated as voices began to sing in the quiet silence. The sound of trickling water poured on one another’s feet, kneeling, washing, hugging, and tears could all be seen and heard. Peace, what glorious peace did abound!
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