pretty feet

As an adolescent I hated my feet.  I don’t know why.  Probably because I was a teenager.  I needed a place to hang a plethora of insecurities, so why not put them on my feet?  I wouldn’t even wear sandals in the summertime. 

But as I’ve aged, I’ve begun to think of my feet as my best feature.  My hair is thinning, there are crow’s feet in the corners of my eyes, and my jowls and doolap sag.  But my feet still look pretty good.  I’ve not detected any change at all.  

Aging seems to be all about loss of elasticity.  The eyesight goes at around 40 and many of our internal systems start to calcify.  One of my fingers show the arthritic effect of a volleyball injury from my 20’s.  And my feet are suffering as well.  I’ve had flexor tendonitis, plantar fasciitis, Achilles tendonitis….my feet have never met an “itis” that they couldn’t call their own.  So I have to be good to my feet.  And it seems that they are returning the favor by not deteriorating in appearance.  Isn’t that kind of them? 

My mother once read somewhere that you need to find one part of your body to love, and that when you are having a bad day, you fix your mind on that.  For Mom it was her nose.  She would recite, “I love my nose” to herself all the time.  So I am trying it with my feet…. I love you, feet!  There.  Now I feel better. 

In reality, I know my feet will one day let me down, with their looks and their usefulness. Entropy happens.  Everything falls apart.  So that is why I look for my security elsewhere.  “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today, yes and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8)  I can always count on Jesus…he will always hold me up, even when my feet fail me. 

            How beautiful upon the mountains
                     are the feet of him who brings good news,
            who publishes peace, 
                     who brings good news of happiness,
                     who publishes salvation,
                     who says to Zion, “Your God reigns.”         Isaiah 52:7