Show. N. Tell. Miracle.

Show…

This part is going to sound kind of crude, but it so helps the appreciation. Today, I washed feet. Do you know feet? Do you know your own feet? Intimately enough to describe them to someone? Feet are pretty ridiculous. And for me, quite utilitarian. God made them. You need them. Move on. But these feet that I saw today told story after story. I’ve got one in my brain I don’t think I will ever lose…

The conversation….I’m not good at this. I’m not a part of a crew that washes feet. It’s not part of my family or upbringing. I always thought it was not so much a literal thing as it was a lesson learned by the disciples. I kind of admired the ones who said they did it, but it’s always seemed a bit oddball to me. I thought as the leader of NEO Convoy of Hope to have a foot-washing tent and give away shoes was a good idea. I loved hearing the testimonies from the foot-washing tent, but it wasn’t me. I was busy doing my stuff, so I didn’t really have to do that part.

Well here’s the conversation. I’ll remind you, this is an Ethiopian Orthodox elderly man. I’m an American young man with longer blonde hair. Totally messed up from a human perspective…so right in God’s eyes. I told him my name and asked him his. My translator interpreted. He told me his name. I told him I have come from America to honor him and serve him like a son would serve his father. (one guy said he only allowed his children to wash his feet, so I incorporated this with the older men) My translator interpreted. I continued with “would you allow me to wash your feet and give you a new pair of sandals?”  The response was affirmative, but not very excited. More like a distant grumpy man who needed help but didn’t want to ask. So here we go…

The shoe. Not really a shoe. A leather moccasin kind of thing with 2 lace holes holding it on. One broken but held on by force. Some from the small shoe size, some from the wet and mud and yuck caked around the edges creating a molded covering on the foot.

I removed the shoe. It didn’t come off easily. But it’s not as if it was completely stuck either. I didn’t have to tug, but with some down force and a few light side to side jerking motions the shoe broke loose and began to move. Out dropped a few toe-sized chunks along with a few ragged pieces of thin sock material. The chunks were mud or something. I didn’t inspect the stuff, but I’m sure they weren’t toes, cause this older man had all of them as I counted. (I was told the team before served a man with leprosy so I was expecting the worse.)

Honestly, no romantic stuff here. I love God’s way of giving grace for the moment, which he did, but it’s not like I was hearing angels sing in the background or something like that.

The sock was deteriorated. Came off pretty easy, but it made me think that this man had not removed his shoes for a long time. The mud, the sock, the smell…

The smell was atrocious, so I didn’t breathe. Anyone who knows me…I’m not much for smells. But I will say this: the place we were working smelled pretty bad. Think about it. No cleanser, no mop…heck… NO RUNNING WATER! What would you expect? It was a clinic for people who have 1 set of clothes in their home, and those are on their back. They smell… These feet obviously made the room smell worse.

This man’s feet had issues. Weathered. Damaged. Filthy. Toe nails 1-2 inches long. The ones that weren’t broken. Issues I’m not sure how to describe but messed up. They had to hurt.

I poured the antiseptic water on them one at a time and I washed with my hands. I used a cloth to remove some of the dirt and touched his toes enough to know that they didn’t move. They were caked with dirt and grime and who knows what else. I got a lot off, but I left a lot too. It would have taken a surgeon.

I fitted sandals that were too big, but we’re still better that what he had.

After the ritual kind of care moment was done the man broke the silence with thank you and repeated blessings of long life for me and my children. I didn’t respond with much. He kissed my hand a few times as we said goodbye to him. And he slowly moved on.

What? No gospel presentation? No proclamation of Jesus? No telling him why we are doing these things? So where’s the celebration? Certainly not here?!

No, our job today was to SHOW the love of God in physical ways so that men and women could speak the love of God outside the clinic. See, the clinic is government property. Sharing the gospel is not allowed. The extreme Orthodox hate us and are just waiting for us to overstep our bounds so they can shut us down!  They were interviewing people as they exited the clinic just waiting for someone to say, “they are preaching Jesus in there.”  They were even going from house to house asking people about their experience trying to find a way to shut us down. Not today.

Tell…

Outside the clinic were Christians working with us sharing the gospel with those who exited the clinic. Among them were 6 Orthodox Priests who work underground as Christians. They were in an amazing position today by God’s grace!

We didn’t know it, but all through the day Orthodox priests had been attending the clinic coming to the gates. Many many priests who needed to see and hear about Jesus.

Miracle:  There are 57 orthodox priests who were shown the love of Jesus inside the clinic. Then they were told the gospel of Jesus outside the clinic. They believed the truth, and said things like, “these are truly Christians” and “we believe this truth” and “teach me more about this Jesus.”  Ya, 57 Orthodox Priests who didn’t know Jesus and the Gospel, made a profession of faith in Christ for salvation.

Miracle…

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