He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” John 13:6 ESV
When I was four years old, we lived in a tiny apartment over a store and my back yard was the flat roof of the building with a wall around its edge. One morning as I was out there playing with some pots and pans, I got the notion of flinging a frying pan over the wall, but my happy smile turned to terror as I heard loud yelling below and then the sound of footsteps coming up the fire escape. Soon the angry face of a delivery truck driver appeared at the top of the stairs holding the frying pan in his hand! My memory fails me as to what happened beyond the well-deserved spanking my mother dished out that day. As she finished, I shouted, “I don’t like you! I want to go live with Gammy and Cap-Cap!” (My grandparents) Mom quietly smiled as she dried my tears, then without argument, fetched my suitcase, put it up on the bed and started to help me pack. Soon I was down on the street, holding my luggage in one hand, staring determinedly ahead as mom pointed, “Okay you walk up this road about 500 miles and you’ll come to their house.” I made it about half a block when the sound of cars swooshing past and the long late afternoon shadows struck fear in my heart and in tears, I ran back to my mom and threw my arms around her. How hard it was to admit that she had been right all along and that I loved her! Just like me, Peter hated to admit how much he needed Jesus. He was ashamed how dirty his feet were, and shocked to see Jesus kneeling to wash them. But Jesus not only washed Peter’s feet, He wants to wash yours and mine as well. If we simply confess our need for Him, what a joy is ours when He washes us, then picks us up and carries us all the way home!