I am not in Pleasantville

I pulled back into the garage after dropping my kids off at school this morning and ran back into the house.  My usual walking shorts and t-shirt won’t do.  I changed into yoga pants.  The wind of change blew through my neighborhood this morning.  Brought a chill with it.

Just a few days earlier, sat on the beach with a friend while beads of sweat lined my forehead and the sun left its red trademark on my knees.  Today, yellow orange leaves scatter the skyline, whisper an end to those sun-kissed days. 

Walking brisk alongside my faithful dog, I pass a short, stocky lady wearing sweats and fur-lined knit cap.  She smiles at me and waves.  That traditional southern wave.  Like she knows me when she doesn’t. I return the hospitality.

The way she dressed to walk that morning.  It shocked me.  Despite the blustery wind, it was nearly 70 degrees.    

I wave with hand high to friends jogging side by side with their yellow lab keeping pace. Greet the man walking toward me and his dog, the size of a small polar bear.  Notice this man wears  winter garb also – and no shoes

Bare feet walking on asphalt overshadows the winter clothes oddity.  At first glance, I assume he must be walking just outside of his yard to pick something up off the road.  Until I turn around later to see him meet up with the lady, take her hand in his, and continue walking.  The winter clad couple, and his bare feet. 

Jesus Was Peculiar and We Should be Too

When I caught up to them later, our dogs incessant tail wagging and drooling on each other broke the ice of introduction. I mentioned his bare feet.  She said he always walks that way. Remarked how I should see the bottom of his feet.  Callouses so thick they resemble the sole of sandals.  I think about what my podiatrist would say.

I wrote an article for HomeLife magazine this week about the season of Lent.  Recalled in my notes during that season last year how a foot washing ceremony moved me. How it takes courage to wash the feet of someone.  Someone who walks barefoot through life, picking up what the world leaves behind.

Jesus washed feet just like this man standing in front of me (John 13:1-17).  Complete love revealed in the washing.  A message for how we should love one another.  Lay down our lives.

Could I wash the feet of this man on the road?  Could you?

If you have participated in a foot washing ceremony, tell me about it.  How did God use it to reveal Himself to you?