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| Photo by Trista Wynne |
I have been considering Your feet as of late. When I was up late singing songs of hope in God, my Love, You were with me, even as You are now. But even more palpably I felt Your Spirit flowing through the room! And You touched my feet. You touched, caressed and kissed, and I wished for Your feet to be near me so I could do the same.
Oh the woman, the woman who washed Your feet with her tears: how very much she loved you! Oh woman, would I be bold like you? Would I ignore the cat-calls, the scornful glances and despicable chastisement for the sake of my Savior’s feet? Do I know from what I have been set free? Can I embrace His ankles and wipe the dirt with my hair like you? O saint! O woman! O teach me how to love as you love. May my devotion be as brazen as yours!
Ah, Beloved, I wish to know You more intimately. When this blessed woman touched You, did she catch Your eye? Did she smooth the roughness? Were Your feet dry, cracked and bleeding from Your walking in the desert sand? Did her tears clean Your wounds? Did her devotion awaken either of you? Were You filled to the brim with compassion and love?
How did You respond to her afterwards? Did you remain at the party while she went away? Did she leave quickly? Did she join the women of hospitality? Did You seek her out after the gathering was through? Did You know when You sat down that she was coming to You? Can I, like her, come to you, too?
My professor says You call us to the margins if we are to see You; this seems right to me. But what You have for each of us to experience there, in Your presence, might be very different from one person to another. I wonder, Lord, as I consider Your feet, how You might call me to bless the feet of another.
Whose feet will my hands caress and smooth? Whose feet will my hair brush against? Whose feet will I touch? Whose feet will I pour ointment over? Whose will I heal? Whose will I bless? Whose will I kiss?
O Lord, in all of them, let them be Yours! Amen.
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