Elaboration.

I think my last post warrants me elaborating a bit. Here's what happened:

The missions team had been in Pennsylvania at AMI Revolution for three days at this point. Everyone had been short on sleep in the past few days, and I myself had gotten three hours each night due to various things coming up. By the time we finished the hour long car ride out from Center City, Philadelphia into the vast and strange openness of Downington, I'm pretty sure there were only two people who actually wanted to be there in the car: me and David.

Also to note: We were going to the Creasys' house, as they had invited us over to feed us and pray for us while we were there. Aside from the fact that Clinton is one of my favorite people in the world, me and Dave have a pretty nice relationship with the whole Creasy family, as we've met them several times, and even had the opportunity to lead worship for their first leadership retreat when they planted their (then) new church, Providence Church in West Chester. Let me tell you, it's something else to be around Mama Creasy and Papa Creasy. It's incredibly encouraging to see two people living for the Lord, serving at the church, loving each other, their kids...And it is something else to be prayed for by them.

As we exited the car, I saw a sight that set my smile from ear to ear: Clint and his father on the grill on their driveway, grilling up burgers for us, ready to welcome all nine of us into their home. And Clint was wearing a random thrift-store t-shirt that looks like it was purchased in the third grade and kept for safe-keeping until he was big enough to wear it, jean cut-offs, and his trademark boatshoes. It's safe to say that I was pretty elated.

Once inside, we were greeted by Moms and two of Clint's friends, Jeremiah and Rachel. I'd also like to say this: I have no idea what the church culture is like at Providence Church, but there must be a Spirit of love like something fierce, because it seemed like everyone in the house was excited to meet us, excited to talk to us, and most of all, excited to pray for us. We even got to see Clint's brother, Lee (and his glorious, glorious mustasche.)

Then, the worship began. Jeremiah was going to lead worship, but this was clearly a free-for-all when it came to who was praying. The Lord was anointing everyone to speak. Rachel, Clint, Clint's mother... And the Spirit of the Lord was clearly there. He settled into the room like a cloud.

But I felt stuck.

I felt weary. I had a million thoughts going through my head. I could feel the divide my heart had created with the Lord. The divide of opposing desires, of opposing idols, of wanting other things, other comforts, before the Lord.

And that's when Clint and Rachel started washing feet.

Clint started by reading the following passage (twice):

3 Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; 4 so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. 5 After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

Okay. Since he read it twice, I'm going to post it twice:

3 Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; 4 so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. 5 After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples' feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.

How groundbreaking are those three verses? Jesus knew that His Father had put all things under His authority, so He put on the towel on washed their feet.

I had never noticed that before. I had never noticed that incredible conflict of interests, at least, from a human perspective.

And the big kicker, the absolute heart-wrencher, was that He does this for me every moment of every day.

Think about that for a moment. Psalm 113 tells us that the Lord "stoops down to look on the heavens and the earth." And here is that very same God, stooping down every moment, to hear every single prayer, to listen to every single thought, to constantly hold me by the hand...Even as I write this now, my eyes well up with tears.

As Clint prayed for me, he rejoiced to the Lord at our relationship, and how much the Lord has used each of us in one another's lives. There are very few people in the world that I will say that I love with all my heart (my mom, my dad, my sister), but Clinton is definitely one of those few. But all that didn't mean as much as the following sentence he uttered as he was drying my feet and getting ready to move on.

"How beautiful are the feet, Lord. How beautiful are the feet."

Romans 10 says:

14 How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? 15 And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!"

It was at that moment I realized what my life needed to be spent on. When you are given the knowledge that the Lord of all heaven and earth humbles Himself to serve you, so much so that He suffered to the point of death, even death on a cross, for YOUR SORRY BUTT...how do you not share that? How do you not then desire "beautiful feet?" How does that realization not shake you to the point that you realize there's no way for your human frame to contain it, so you might as well spill it out to everyone around you?

And perhaps my feet had been inadvertently beautiful previously, pretty much by accident. But now, I realize the call: to be intentional, to desire to share it to others. Like Pastor Carl Park spoke to the missions teams regarding the Gospel, "Just put it out there."

That's what I want to do. And that's what I want this blog to be about. Just putting the Gospel out there.

I probably won't ever look at feet the same way again.