|Are you washing these feet?|
Warning: Proceed with caution if you are the squeamish kind, okay? :)
Today I saw probably the fifth pair of poopy underwear in about a week. (You mamas that have been through potty training your little ones will know what I'm talking about).
I seriously had a "pause and think on that moment" during this time, and I believe God dealt with me about my attitude toward cleaning up the boy child's poo...when I know very well that he knows how to put it in the potty.
It was not pretty. (Poop seldom is). Okay, I'm talking about my initial response. It may have involved shouting (certainly not the "hallelujah" kind). It also may have involved me making some kind of ungodly growling sort of sound that hurt my throat. Okay, it did. I'm not proud to admit that I was really angry about this latest "accident".
To make matters worse, after the underwear was removed from the child, he continued to do the "potty dance", and refused to get on the potty to finish what he started.
After reassuring him that it was okay, and I was going to be there with him (I think he's a little bit afraid of going number two in the potty) he finally finished. I cleaned him up and sent him on his way.
As I was angrily cleaning up the mess, and washing the poop stained underwear, I continued complaining and expressing disgust.
It was at this moment that I was reminded of how Jesus washed the feet of His disciples. And if their desert is anything like ours in Arizona, it was nasty dirty man feet. Sweaty, stinky. Filthy. In these parts, it doesn't take much to get dirty feet in the summertime- and we have pavement. I can't imagine what ones feet would look like at the end of a sweaty, stinky day in the hot sun complete with natural desert landscaping.
God showed me a picture of how Jesus didn't complain about this act of servant hood. He didn't let His own natural reaction to this menial task stand in the way of showing humility to His followers. In fact, He practically had to force one of the disciples to let Him wash his feet. He humbled Himself.
Jesus is better than me. And though cleaning poopy underwear could be only slightly more foul than washing man feet after the end of a sweltering day spent in sandals in the desert, His act of quiet, humble service to His disciples shows me how I should be as a mother. For the first time I received God's grace for this task and was able to smile contentedly while doing something I personally find repulsive.
Yesterday, I saw a definition of a servant of the Lord while reading Isaiah 54:17 in the Amplified. "Those in whom the ideal Servant of the Lord is reproduced". Jesus is the Ultimate Servant. Anything I could possibly do pales dramatically in comparison to all that He has done for us. And isn't that reflection of one "in whom the ideal Servant of the Lord is reproduced" what we want to show our children?