I was awakened midway through my night of sleep, as I often am now that I’m north of fifty years old. It took a few moments to acclimate… a hotel room does that to me. When I crawled back into bed, my body was ready for more rest, but my mind had been liberated, and so it raced. It went first to the events that would soon confront me. Having traversed this territory, it began to explore the broader landscape. I chased dreams and hopes, but found them quickly doused with fears, concerns, and questions.
So I prayed. It was an honest dialog looking up at a textured ceiling. Even in prayer I confronted a ready invasion of doubt. “Did He really say… will He really do… why should He?” Then came the wave of shame that crashes on the shore of our soul when we realize just where our mind has gone.
I never moved, but I wrestled for some time. Pleading, pushing, wondering… is my Father patient enough to sort through this one more time? Does He love me that much?
Last night, in a darkened church sanctuary in Aurora, CO, a group of pilgrims commemorated Maundy Thursday. As the events of the Last Supper were communicated through the text in the book of John… something occurred to me. It swept me back to the textured ceiling conversation.
We all know it… Jesus, in an act of complete humility and service, washed the feet of His disciples. But in a matter of hours, these would be feet that would flee. He cleaned the sand and grit out of the toes that would retreat from His defense. Clean feet moved doubting hearts. And Jesus showed… just how much He loves us.
No doubt, no fear, no worry, no escape forces His surrender. Hotel room or Upper room… Jesus is there. Serving, loving, challenging… and yes, even listening to our doubts and fears.
clean feet to flee… pure love that pursues and rescues.
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