I wondered about the soles of my feet yesterday.
Bare feet, pointed towards my friend, a yoga instructor, I remembered the callouses from my days of fancy shoes and I thought of the hardness of my heels. Hesitated there only a second, purposeful in my breathing, the intent of this new thing for me, a practice in resting my mind.
Earlier, my pastor mentioned dirty feet in his sermon.
He glanced my way when he spoke of the method of travel in those days. He spoke of Jesus washing feet. Feet on the ground. The earth uncushioned, the dryness of soil showing no mercy; yet, feet followed closely in their seeking of Jesus, of heaven.
For just a few seconds, I was there. I was one of those women, my dress touching the earth, like a curtain, full and billowing on a dining room floor. My feet, dusty and tired. The soles and heels hardened by my journey; but, not yet weary in my pursuit of peaceful destination.
Others there, dusty brownish gray hard feet, all of us witness to His cleansing.
Seeing the blind see.
The lame walk.
Walking with Jesus, pausing because a desperate father has brought a child to be healed or to be with a sister waiting for Jesus, almost hopeless for a brother to live.
My thoughts were there; my dirty, earthen feet longing for Jesus.
To be one of the throng of followers, surely weary from watching.
Circled round the cross in mournful lament,
Our dirty feet holding up our weary hearts.
Hearing Jesus say, “It is finished.” John 19:30
Maybe falling to filthy, tormented ground to join in bellowing grief.
And later, to be standing with Mary, to have seen the scars and believed in His promise…the way of peace.
“Peace be with you.” John 20:26
I sat with hands folded towards my heart yesterday. This new thing I’m doing, not faith-based necessarily but, beautiful in the mingling of my faith.
Bare feet, yoga pants not quite covering waist of panties and uncertain of the meaning of “Namaste”, I prayed in warrior pose and I prayed in victor’s breath; practiced what’s called soul breathing, eyes closed and heart towards heaven.
Dirty feet and cleansed soul.
Earth and Heaven
Joined together in bare feet.
I’m linking up with Jennifer Dukes Lee and am treasuring the truth
of her words today, “your critics don’t own you.”