I love to wear flip flops. They call them thongs in
Australia, which can be a bit disconcerting, so I’ll stick with flip flops. I
wore them all the time when we lived in Singapore. So much so, I had a nearly permanent
tan line across the top of my foot.
For some reason we can’t wear them in the office. Some guy named Osha won’t let me. I’m not sure who that is, but he sounds pretty uptight, like an over protective mother with her first born.
Anyway, I would wear flip flops all the time if I could. So recently, on a trip out of the office, I had them on. I like going for walks when I’m in new places, to try to get a feel for the area and the people, one you won’t get sticking around a hotel.
On one particular walk there was a long dusty road. The kind of road created by months of dry weather and the pummeling of car tires. The dust was soft and powdery and exploded into little clouds with every footstep.
When I got to my hotel that evening I went to hop in the shower and realized I hadn't grabbed my towel. I’m sure it’s some kind of plot by the hotel industry because no towel is ever within reach of the shower.
I tried to step out quickly and grab it before getting too wet, but it was too late. There, on the crisp white bathmat was a nasty black footprint. It was pretty gross. So much so, when I got out of the shower, I had to wash it out in the sink. I was too embarrassed for the maid to see it. Really.
It made me think of all those sermons I've heard about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. They used to always mention the dusty roads and how dirty their feet would be, but I’m not sure I ever understood until I saw that nasty black footprint on the mat.
All Jesus did with his guys was walk around. They would just hang out, walking around and talking about stuff. So much so, I’m surprised there aren't stories in the Bible about his mother telling him he needed to get a job.
So after one of these days of walking around on some dusty road outside Jerusalem, Jesus took a bucket of water and a towel and began to wash their feet. 24 stinky, nasty grown men feet. He washed the ones that wanted to be washed and the ones who didn't. He even washed the pair that would run off and betray him just a few minutes later.
I don’t seem to mind service, when it’s convenient or comfortable and especially when it makes me look good. But I’m not sure the last time I did a job simply because no one else wanted to do it.
The God of the universe defined what it means to be a servant. It took a dusty road to reminded me how far away I am from his example.
For some reason we can’t wear them in the office. Some guy named Osha won’t let me. I’m not sure who that is, but he sounds pretty uptight, like an over protective mother with her first born.
Anyway, I would wear flip flops all the time if I could. So recently, on a trip out of the office, I had them on. I like going for walks when I’m in new places, to try to get a feel for the area and the people, one you won’t get sticking around a hotel.
On one particular walk there was a long dusty road. The kind of road created by months of dry weather and the pummeling of car tires. The dust was soft and powdery and exploded into little clouds with every footstep.
When I got to my hotel that evening I went to hop in the shower and realized I hadn't grabbed my towel. I’m sure it’s some kind of plot by the hotel industry because no towel is ever within reach of the shower.
I tried to step out quickly and grab it before getting too wet, but it was too late. There, on the crisp white bathmat was a nasty black footprint. It was pretty gross. So much so, when I got out of the shower, I had to wash it out in the sink. I was too embarrassed for the maid to see it. Really.
It made me think of all those sermons I've heard about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. They used to always mention the dusty roads and how dirty their feet would be, but I’m not sure I ever understood until I saw that nasty black footprint on the mat.
All Jesus did with his guys was walk around. They would just hang out, walking around and talking about stuff. So much so, I’m surprised there aren't stories in the Bible about his mother telling him he needed to get a job.
So after one of these days of walking around on some dusty road outside Jerusalem, Jesus took a bucket of water and a towel and began to wash their feet. 24 stinky, nasty grown men feet. He washed the ones that wanted to be washed and the ones who didn't. He even washed the pair that would run off and betray him just a few minutes later.
I don’t seem to mind service, when it’s convenient or comfortable and especially when it makes me look good. But I’m not sure the last time I did a job simply because no one else wanted to do it.
The God of the universe defined what it means to be a servant. It took a dusty road to reminded me how far away I am from his example.
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