Thursday, April 9, 2009
"I am your teacher and lord. I have washed your feet. You should wash each other's feet also." John 13:14
My dirty feet
caked in sweat and dust and you
would kneel down and hold my foot
one at a time, pouring
warm soapy water, wiping
cool clean linen
once white now soiled
My blushing face,
the tenderness moving me
pushing me to tears that
warm and salty paint a picture
of my broken heart,
torn open by love that is
love serving others, not asking
but giving when deserving the world.
Your rough hands, face lined
with worry with compassion
we would be lords and rulers
and you would have us kneel to the broken
the lonely, the dirt poor souls,
the unknown, the simple
the servants who speak no name.
This day, let my movements be not false
but honest offering, honest kneeling
honest serving those who are called least.
You, invited me to dine, still invite
the whole world to dine and lean in
like family, like welcomed beloved children.
Today, let me make room,
with my being, not my imagination,
let me make room at the table set a place
for the misguided and cruelly treated
the shamed and the undone,
the tortured and the foolish
for you have washed their feet too.
You have wept for love of them
you have wrinkled your brow in amusement
and delight in every heart lifted
every lost child found every servant
with a song in their heart.