Washing Feet

The message this weekend at church was really awesome. The story is one of my favorites in the Bible, even though I hate feet. The story is in John 13, and it's about when Jesus washes the feet of His disciples as a sign of servitude and love. Jesus does a household chore that no one ever wanted to do. It was disgusting; people walked through mud and dirt and animal poop on a daily basis. Yet, it had to be done, and the Master becomes a slave to prove a point. He picks up the basin, and washed His followers' feet.

Dad compared this story to the only other time a "basin" was mentioned in the Bible. Right before Jesus' crucifixion, the crowd was screaming, "Crucify Him!" Pontius Pilate grabbed a "basin" and literally washed his hands in front of the people and said he was choosing to do nothing about the crucifixion of Jesus. Wow. That took some nerve.

So the question we're faced with, is what are we going to do with our "basin?" Will we wash our hands and choose to do nothing to serve others or will we pick it up and become a servant by washing our friends' and families' feet? Ok, I know what you're thinking. Well, at least I'm thinking it, and I'll be totally honest about it. I hate feet. My brother used to think it was hilarious when we were growing up to stick his stinky, sweaty feet on me. It would LITERALLY make me gag. My dad's feet gross me out. My husband's feet, are actually nice for "man feet" but I still kick him when he puts them on me in bed at night. Right now, I can handle Miley's feet, but even Emma's 3 year old feet gross me out sometimes. I HATE FEET. However, we don't have to actually wash people's feet to have a servant's heart. (PRAISE GOD!!!) We have to simply act on a need when we see it. We should take that next right step and just give whatever we have.

There's this little girl who goes to the babysitter with Emma and Miley. She's two years old and has the prettiest head of blond curls. Her mom and dad are split up and someone different picks her up everyday. She never knows what family member may pick her up at the end of the day, and she asks me every afternoon when I come in where her Mommy is. I have to tell her I don't know. I hate it. She's taken to me though, for whatever reason, and once I tell her I'm not sure where her mom is, she comes to me with arms open wide and says, "I want to hold you." So I pick her up and snuggle and rock her for a few minutes before I take my own girls home. It absolutely breaks my heart. One afternoon with big tears in my eyes, I told Cindy (the babysitter) that I could hardly stand it, that the little girl just breaks my heart. She told me she understands and that it's like that everyday, all day. I just want to bring her home with me and make her mine. To show her stability, consistency, and LOVE. I told Cindy that I'm so glad she watches her because at least there is one place where the little girl knows she'll be every day and that she'll be loved and taken care of. I know it's not much, but holding that little girl every afternoon is what I'm choosing to do with my basin right now. I can't fix her life, I can't take her home with me, I can't make her parents take better care of her, but I can hold her. And love her for a few minutes. That's all I have to give right now, and I'll give it. Gladly. That's all God asks us to do, just the next right thing. Where's your basin? On the table, where you can convienently wash your hands, or on the floor in front of someone, washing their feet?