Back to Your Feet
I see your dusty feet
that walked miles
in crude sandals
to tell people what God
and His kingdom is like.
I see Your knees which
knelt
as You told the Father,
“Not my will but Yours be
done”
before You gave Your life
to pay for sins of
humankind.
I put my hands
in Your scarred ones,
which healed the sick,
raised the dead
and made a whip
to drive out greed.
I put my fingers in your
side
where the sword was thrust
and out came water and
blood
from Your broken heart.
I lean against your chest
like John did,
asking who would betray You.
I look to your mouth,
which spoke words of love,
but also words that pierced
like a sword.
I gaze into Your eyes.
of compassion
that looked upon
an adulterous woman
and forgave her.
Eyes that stared at Peter
after the rooster crowed,
saying I knew you’d betray me
but hang in there
the best is yet to come.
But I always
come back to your feet,
washing them with fragrant
perfume
and drying them with my
hair.
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