Desert Feet

I had read a lot about deserts, watched movies on deserts, taught about deserts, so obviously I had this feeling that I had been to a desert, that I knew deserts. It wasn't until last week during a trip to the United Arab Emirates when we went on a Desert Safari when it actually dawned on me that that was my first time being in a desert. So much to unpack from actually being in the desert. My next few posts will explore different flashes of thoughts that came to me from my experience there. 

Today, I want to talk about desert feet. 

Before we began the journey, I sent a text to our guide asking what kinds of shoes to wear. We concluded it was better to wear our slides or sandals rather that our tennis or dress shoes. I understood that later as we got on the desert. Had I worn those, the dust from the desert would have at  the least sentenced them to a great deal of washing to restore them. So the slides were just perfect. 

By  the time we were done for the day and returned to our hotel, I took off my slides,  my socks and feet were really dusty. Had to take a bath and thoroughly was off all the dust. 

A few days later, while reading John 13:1-17 on  Jesus washing his disciple's feet,  the image of my desert feet flashed on my mind and I had this musing.

When the master washed his disciples' feet

They weren't feet that had been clad with beautiful shoes

They weren't  feet that were already clean from a luxurious bath

He washed dusty feet

Desert feet

Dirty feet

Scrapping with his God-hands baked mud

Dipping into water muddied by dirt

Washing off residues picked

From dirty paths they had tread 

Yet with loving focus and joy he washed these feet. 

He tells me now that loving others 

Is often not a clean affair 

But a dirty endeavor

This business is not for those 

Who want to keep their manicures untouched

Washing the feet of others

Will leave dust on my finger nails

Leaving on my hands objects from where people have walked

Yet he tells me to do it joyfully as he has done. 

That in this lies his blessing

So I commit to washing feet all my life

Like my master did.

Dirty feet

Muddy feet

Dusty feet

Desert feet

It doesn't matter to me 

It matters not where people may  have walked

And what they've picked up from their strolls

Through this desert of a world

It matters not what stories they have had

What ratings their life's movies so far is assigned

No one is too "unclean" 

To deserve my service and compassion

No one will be an outcast from my loving care.

I will bow down and wash all feet

Knowing it will be uncomfortable

Disgusting and messy

I know it is  being comfortable

In these uncomfortable bows to wash

That the master has called me to

And to this I pledge my life again.