If Jesus washed my feet
A holy week prayer and poem.
If Jesus washed my feet
I would first recoil,
and ask Him if he promises not to laugh at my toes,
that some people find funny.
His face still dropped to the basin and towel he is holding.
Did I hurt his feelings?
I wonder if he feels offended since he created those toes,
this whole body,
that I carried around with almost equal measures of both shame and pride,
self-loathing, self-love.
Jesus lifts up his face,
creation meets the eye of the maker.
I’m in awe, I must become less, He must become greater.
Jesus,
seems to be having some nostalgia.
Of when the thought of creating me made him jittery
all mindful of me, before he made the oceans and galaxies.
Towel around his waist
dripping water
it’s uncomfortable to be touched by holy hands
while your feet have walked some corrupt sands.
He washes my feet very slowly
as if moulding them all over again
as if we’ve got forever, maybe we do.
Toe by toe,
all the washing and drying in a bow.
“Behold”
He speaks.
Is it me he’s talking to
or some angels I can’t see?
“My Beloved.”
there’s no way I have mistaken this,
it’s me!
“Then I passed by you again and looked on you, and behold, you were at a time for love, and I spread my robe over you and covered your nakedness. Yes, I swore an oath to you and entered a covenant with you,” says The Lord God, “and you became Mine.”
Ezekiel 16:8
This verse might be taken completely out of context, but it sure is one of the verses that I cling onto to remind myself that I’m loved that much and more!
Whatever faith you may have or not have, one thing remains true, you are worthy of love!
Sending lots of it your way!