When I was in college they let me be a R.A. I know. Stop laughing. Ok. Now I am laughing. Because just re-reading that they let me be an R.A. means someone thought I would be a good example of someone to count on seems laughable to me now. Yeah. “Me” in college was not any of those things. I was more of what you call a Birkenstock-wearing, Indigo Girl-loving, music-enthralled total opposite of an R.A. kind of girl. But somewhere in there someone thought that I had potential. Someone saw redemption in me.
As part of our training, the director of Residential Life and all of his staff invited us to participate in a particular exercise where we all sat in a circle and they asked us to remove our shoes. Or sandals. I sat there thinking, ok, here is the part when we walk over the coals or something adventurous like that.
Instead, they knelt before us and washed our feet.
I sat there and watched as a man I admired and respected for speaking truth and going against the grain held my foot in his hands.
I cried that entire evening. I wondered how he could even want to touch my feet.
Dirty with years of walking the direction that I wanted to go.
Years of being tangled in sheets of those I never knew their names.
Years of standing by the well waiting for Jesus to say my name.
To call out truth in me. And there he was.
The most beautiful act of love.
Washing my feet twisted in the guilt of sin. “ If you, oh Lord, kept a record of sins, O Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, therefore you are feared.” Psalm 130: 3-4. Knowing full well that I reminded him more of Gomer than of a leader.
This is what I know to be true. A sin is a sin. Pride is a sin. Anger is a sin. Promiscuity is a sin. Gossip is a sin. Overspending is a sin. Yelling at your spouse is a sin.
I did not come to Jesus because everyone posted on Facebook or tweeted that the choices I made were sinful. I came to Jesus because someone knelt down and washed my feet.
This Lenten season I plead to you, the women of the well are all around you.
We are continually untwisting ourselves from the guilt that sin strangled us with .
We are aching for redemption. We are aching for our feet to be washed.
Wash more feet this Lent, sweet girl.
“O Israel, put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with him is full redemption. He himself will redeem Israel from all their sins.” Psalm 130:7-8