Day 4- Wash my feet
The Sunday prior to my trip to Haiti, I was at my home
church of River Valley. The sermon was related to Jesus being a servant to his
disciples- illustrating the significance of him doing the job of a servant and
washing the dirty feet of his disciples. I have always loved this story and
have heard it used many times as an example of how leadership should look.
Thursday we had the chance to visit three elderly in the
community. Two women and one man, ranging in age from 70-90 years old, which is
exceeding the average life span of Haitians, which is around mid 60s. When I
heard about the experience, I imagined bringing water and food to shut-ins; to
be greeted by somber and tired faces.
We brought our guitar and drum, a bucket and towels to clean
their feet and lotion to finish off the job with a massage. The elderly and
their large entourage of grandchildren and neighbors met us warmly with hugs
and smiles. We broke the ice with live worship music and got right to work- one
person on each limb, and the rest playing with the children. At the first two stops I sat on my drum,
keeping the beat alongside Jeff, our team leader as he strummed his guitar and
sang even more energy and life into these homes. I liked my spot on the drum,
contributing in my own way, and infusing my joy and personality through my hand
movements beating against the drum. This drum was also my lookout spot. I took
in my scenery and watched with pride at the hard work of my fellow friends and
teammates, moved by their compassion and care with their soft movements over
the bony, dry skin they were touching. They looked so natural, made the job
look easy and enjoyable.
At the final home, I was encouraged to get off my drum and
put my famous massage skills to work. As I crouched by the old man’s feet, it
dawned on me that this would be dirty, smelly, rough...did I mention dirty? The
laces were so stiff from dried dirt that it took work to loosen them. Dust was
covering the entire shoe; there wasn’t a clean spot to hold onto. The old man
was unphased- sat back and relaxed, thankfully unaware of the thoughts in my
head about how I would get through the messy experience. As all this was going
through my head, and as I continued to work on peeling off the dirty shoes, I
was reminded of the sermon I had heard just days ago at church. This was the
type of feet Jesus cleaned. Feet full of dirt, expected from the type of
lifestyle and the area they lived in. I literally had to bring myself to the
thought that Jesus- the King of the World, washed feet. I had to remind myself of the “amens!” I
verbalized throughout the sermon about how I am the hands and feet of
Jesus. It was convicting, to say the
least. It was my turn to do the dirty work.
The old man thoroughly enjoyed his cleaning and massage. An
eager team member graciously offered we could massage his back as well, and
there was not a second of hesitancy from him. Thank you eager team member-
cause guess who rotated to his back? Yes, me. Oh, did I mention yet that his
hips hurt as well? He was ready for the full rub down, body massage. This old
man was full of fire and FUNNY. We asked him how we could pray for him, and he
closed his eyes, raised his hands in the air and started rattling off praises
and worship to God for US being there. We then switched roles and prayed for
him, asking for relief of the pain that agonized him all over.
The elderly were a blessing to us all. We enjoyed being
immersed in the community and seeing into the homes and lives of some of the
locals. They were easy to love on, and the life that flowed from their smiles
was something we carried with us all day.
