I wish I enjoyed it, but I don’t. I can’t sit still if someone massages my feet or gives me a pedicure. That would be why I have only had one of each in my life. Imagine my thoughts when I heard that we were about to wash each other’s feet.
This is a picture of my wife Danielle washing Baan’s feet. At the time we didn’t know Baan very well. He lives in Pattaya, Thailand. Danielle and I served with the same ministry organization with Baan. He became a close and trusted in friend.
I sat waiting my turn for someone to wash my feet. I tried to ignore the anxiety rising in me. I really didn’t want someone touching my feet! Ugh—I know I had uncut toenails, crusty heels and neglected calluses!
My body tensed as the poor soul unlucky enough to be the one to wash my feet knelt before me. I grabbed the edge of my chair trying not to kick them while they cleaned my feet with a rag.
You would think they were torturing me! I found it difficult to focus on the meaning of the action.