Unworthy

We walked far that day. I remember it well. There was much work to be done and we knew that the time was quickly shortening in which to do it.

The roads were dusty. They were always dusty. The dirt would billow under our sandals as we stepped, finding its way into almost every crevice imaginable. The grains of sand were so small, so seemingly insignificant, that I didn't think they would bother that much. But, as they continued to rub against the skin, blisters formed and eventually popped. The more we walked, the more my feet became accustomed to the abrasions. Soon, callouses took the place of the blisters.

Our footwear didn't help any. The thin leather sandals barely protected our soles from the hard, rocky ground. The straps wrapped tightly around the ankle and partway up the calf, almost cutting off the circulation to the foot. It was necessary this way, though. If not, the sandal would come loose and fall off.

I remember the end of that day. We were tired, but energized. We had worked hard and learned much. We came together for a special feast, for it was the Passover. I can still see the room we were in. The candles lit the walls with a glow that almost seemed angelic. The warm spring night air lightly blew in through the window causing the flames to move as if they were dancing.

The food was greatly welcomed as we hungrily filled our energy deprived bodies. I remember the conversations as if they were still playing in my mind. The words our friend spoke seemed so perfect, so true.

As we sat after the meal finished, he rose and walked over to the other side of the room. I saw him pick up a large basin, a towel and a pitcher of water. Since he was always teaching us lessons, I didn't think much of what he was doing. I was waiting for the real-life application as he put the basin down in front of me. I thought about what new insight I was about to receive as he poured the water. But then, my mind went blank as he reached for my foot.

What is he doing? I thought. Not my feet!

His hands wrapped gently around my ankle as he lifted it into the water. My mind raced as I tried to comprehend what he was doing. I couldn't let him touch my feet! They were hideous. They were dirty and calloused. They were unclean! I reached out to stop him, and he looked up at me with those loving eyes. I cared for him so much. How could I let him do such a thing? This was a job for servants or someone else of lower importance. Not him. Please, not him.

"Lord," I found myself saying. "Doest thou wash my feet?"

"What I doest thou knowest not now; but thou shat know hereafter," was his reply. There was a lesson to learn there, but I could not think straight. All I could focus on was his tender hands touching my filthy feet.

"Thou shalt never wash my feet," I said. I couldn't let him. This man of eternal power and authority could not stoop so low as to clean my feet.

"If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me," he said. I could hear the tender mercies in his voice. I started to see things a little differently. He must have been trying to cleanse me so that I could be with him and his Father. I thought back to my baptism and remembered the clean feeling I had when I came out of the river.

Maybe he's trying to cleanse me again, I thought. If that's the case, then he needs to do more than just my feet. "Lord, not my feet only," I concluded. "But also my hands and my head."

If he was going to make me clean, I needed it all.

"He that is washed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit," were his words to me.

I sat there almost in disbelief as I watched him tenderly wipe the dirt away. Here was my teacher, my master, cleaning my dirty, filthy feet. I tried to think about the lesson he was trying to get through to me, but my mind was awhirl.

I'm sure I'll understand in time.

As he finished and moved on to the others there, I felt the now clean skin. Somehow I felt revived. I felt like I could walk a thousand miles and work a thousand years. I looked back to the loving man who had changed my life in so many ways. He looked back at me with those understanding eyes and I knew that even though I was unworthy, I would always follow him.