Beautiful Are The Feet

I've been a soccer mom, cheer mom, dance mom, gymnastics mom, and a personal fav- XC mom. I love watching this kid do her thing.

While I was working a home cross country meet this morning, I heard geese honking. That's always a good sign. When Carol asked me if I wanted to leave my station to watch Ella at the start of her race, I declined. Ashleigh was with her. Today, I stayed at the finish line. The truth is that I don’t like to watch Ella run away from me. I’d rather see her run to me.

Ella’s been running ever since she could rip off her diaper and escape. As a toddler, she created a course loop inside our home. Later, she and Bob designed a trail below our house. Ella ran her first race when she was four. I ran, too. This is how I know beyond a shadow of doubt that I am not a runner. Thank goodness Ryan started running with her- just so I wouldn't worry.

Watching Ella run gives me joy. Today was a good race that brought a new personal record for her. There’s even a website for tracking those things.

Maybe teachers could start our own national database and share personal records for other things besides running. How about PRs for teaching?
-a PR for how many times I can do a Google Form incorrectly
-a PR for how long it takes to then read all student emails informing me how this google form does not work
-a PR for how long we can wait to go to a bathroom because we’ve been teaching all day
-a PR for how much fall candy we can stress eat in a single work week

In reality, teachers run all the time.
Running ragged- of course.
Running on empty- sometimes.
Running circles- all day long.

My feet get exhausted.

One of my favorite lessons from a mission trip is about tired feet. I was traveling with Kathy Adams to Costa Rica. Our group shared communion, and as I returned to my seat, I glanced up to read Romans 10:15 painted on the wall in Spanish. Beautiful are the feet that bring the Good News.

So, I looked down at my feet.

It was scary. I saw tired old feet, with knots on my toes. Blisters stung my heels and spider veins crossed my travel worn ankles. It was depressing and shameful. I should be taking better care of myself.

On this particular day, I did feel defeated. I was wrecked, and I needed to make a choice. I could keep looking down, feeling unworthy to serve others (which was not a pretty option this day or any day), or I could raise my eyes and look at God’s encouragement. His words are healing.

My feet are going to falter, but I get my courage from His word. On this trip, I began to understand how to pray through each problem. I practiced looking up, and I also read the entire Bible verse. Anyone who trusts in Him will never be put to shame. Beautiful are the feet that bring the Good News.

Whatever gifts I have are from Him, and my tired tootsies must take me where I need to go to use them. Richard Blackaby wrote in Experiencing God. “When you trust that God always gives His best, you will devote your heart to whatever assignment God gives because you know in that role you can experience everything God has in His heart for you.” I’ll be perfectly honest. I don’t always get this right.

That’s why I have people who remind me.

Judy has her amazing talent for playing the piano. I’m thankful her beautiful feet get her in front of a piano each Sunday.
Sharon uses her gifts to minister to women in need. Her beautiful feet cross her kitchen floor countless times welcoming women who create jewelry and worship together.
Jeni leads others to peaceful choices. Nothing slows her down as she rolls beautiful feet first into meaningful conversations filled with gratitude and hope.
Charlene and her yoga feet taught me this prayer.
May the light of God surround me,
the love of God enfold me,
the power of God protect me, and
the presence of God watch over me.
Wherever I am, God is also. Amen.

I want to be where God wants me. While I’m there, I do not want people to see me looking down at my feet.

I hope to be caught looking up.