Posted in On Thankfulness

I am thankful for…

my feet. Their crusty callousness reminds me I can never add enough balm to completely smooth my journey. They reflect my victories and defeats even as they hold my body in tenuous balance. I hide them in colorful socks, but they snag the fibers causing holes. My worn-down soles attest to my soul’s burdens.

This week in Max Lucado’s book Grace, I read about Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. When I put myself in the disciples’ shoes, I recoil. Jesus kneeling at my feet makes me shudder. I pull my feet away and sit on them until He has to sit on me and wrestle them toward Him. Then, under His firm gentle grasp, I feel Him wash my soiled, cracked skin. He massages each callous, knowing how each one formed. His hands are the balm smoothing them baby-soft. Every defeat reveals the victory of His presence in every race. My child-like faith dances barefoot in the streets, showing off His pedicure of grace. When I lose my balance and fall on my worn-down soles, He lifts me up again, soul’s burdens, feet, and all.

Author:

From A-Z Author Book Reader and Reviewer Christian Diligent Editor Faith-based Giant-in-stature Home Educator Intuitive Java-Enthusiast Knitter Labrador Retriever Owner Mother of Three Boys Note-Taker Organizer Poet Quiet Moments (a rare commodity!) RV Camping Singer in Church Choir T U Violist Wife of My High School Sweetheart X Yarn-Lover (the wool kind and the story kind) Z

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s