In the cool of a spring evening, I'm wiped out tired, last wisps of breath coming heavy from my lungs. I lean back in the front porch rocker, book in my hands, glass of wine by my side and settle in for comfort. Mary comes with her basket of nail polish-"Tonight, Mama, I'm going to paint your toenails. Choose a color." And there is no choice in the painting. Mary says it and Mary will do it. My toes are fearsome ugly,distorted and deformed and I don't like them painted, I prefer them hidden inside my shoes. But I see she won't back down until she has her way with me so I choose the brightest blue in her basket and offer my foot to her hand.
She begins with the lotion, working it deep into my heels and ankles, massaging with a gentle purpose. Ooh, this she could keep doing forever, my tired feet aching from too much time in high heels now feeling astonishingly soothed and rejuvenated.
And I look into my beautiful daughter's face...and I see Him. Here He is, bent down over Peter's dusty and tired feet, washing them clean, giving him love.
I am left with the shock of bright blue toenails that surprise me every time I remove my socks. It's a reminder that I am loved. Unworthy though I am, He serves me, longs to soothe me-body and soul, and He calls me to imitate His service by soothing others in their pain, exhaustion, discomfort. Like my daughter painting my nails, I too, will give myself to others, will follow His example, will love with all that is within me. No matter how simple and small the effort may be, I will give myself away.
