annointing feet

Feet are not my thing. I mean, come on, yuck! And don't let me get started on the feet I have encountered in my line of work. I have often wondered what would make someone decide to specialize in feet...podiatry, pedicurists... Again, not my thing!

So last night when I was asked to find time to wash my patients feet my first thought was to find the clinical partner assigned to that patient. I didn't really have an excuse so I, should I say "bucked up" and approached the duty of washing this man's feet.

On a side note, on my way to work last night, while driving in the snow, I made a conscious point in my prayer to ask God to let me touch at least one life during my shift.

Back to my story...

I grab soap, wash cloths, towels and new socks and put on that grin and bear it face. "This is just part of being a nurse", as you can guess I really was saying this to myself.

I turn the water on and begin to tackle this duty.

This patient was admitted due to breathing issues and I listen to him talk to his baby granddaughter on the phone thinking that I should encourage him to take a rest as he is visibly short of breath but his face is glowing with the love that he has for this little one so I weigh the benefits with the negatives and decide that he needs to have "Grandpa time".

I begin to wash his feet and I am reminded of a sermon I heard on Sunday about the woman who washed Jesus feet with her tears and anointed him with perfume. I begin to see my patient from a different aspect, or maybe it was me that I was looking at different. I began to see myself as a servant there to serve my patient. I tenderly began to soak and scrub his feet and the face of my patient faded away and I felt the Lord's presence begin to overpower me. What must it have been like to sit at The Master's feet, listening to Him teach and to provide Him such a service?

As I was drying my patient's feet he asked me if I had time to do one more thing for him...rub baby oil into his feet. I was so moved by his request, and though baby oil is I am sure very far removed from the bottle of perfume pored out of that broken alabaster box I couldn't imagine doing something more serving for my patient or for the Lord.


"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"

Matthew 25: 35-40

I know that my patient appreciated what I did for him, but for me I realized that though my hands and my words may be attending the sick I am really serving Jesus.

I left for work asking God to allow me to touch someones heart, I didn't realize I would be that person.