"There's just something about the water...."

A dear friend of mine once preached a sermon about Jesus' washing of feet in John 13. She painted a beautiful vision of care, and refreshment--highlighting the close intimacy of footwashing rather than the astounding 'self-lowering' act of servanthood--but she kept coming back to the image of bare feet standing in a stream.

"There's just something about the water..."

Now I'm not a foot person and I don't like foot images, but I DO resonate with the aching feeling of tired feet. There is something about stepping--barefoot--into a cool, rushing forest stream after a long day of hiking. Something about the water restores your breath and seeps into your soul.

The upper room is a cleansing image; a serving image; and a look-at-my-insecurities-touch-my-scars kind of moment (not to mention the obvious connection to baptism which happens with cleansing water too).

"Wash me with hyssop and I will be clean."

These were all images that crashed through my head in Yosemite campground. We had been hiking for several days and I was standing alone at the edge of a freezing river. Shoes off. Feet tired. Heart achingly open. I poured out all kinds of exhaustion, insecurity, lack of discipline, unworthiness. I told God that I felt empty of insight. How can I lead people to discipleship when my own walk is so faltering? ...but there was something about the water. There was grace and freshness there. There, by the riverside, I swear Jesus knelt with a towel around his waste and responded to my own doubt ("Me? You'll never wash MY feet....").

"Unless I wash you. you'll have no share with me."

So I walked right into that river. Literally. Not just my feet, but my hands and my face, my calves and my knees--and I stood in that water until my body was numb from the cold.

"One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean."