I see them wearing sandals.
Not sturdy ones, but flimsy.
The kind that allows water to soak soles and pebbles to find room between toes.
I see mud and dust caked on their feet.
Dirt clogging their toenail beds.
Maybe the wing of a bug stuck to their heels.
I’m sure the odor was heavy.
A perfume of sweat and filth so thick it could be tasted.
A grimy job. A lowly task.
Washing a man’s dirty feet.
The stench didn’t faze Him.
The condition didn’t stop Him.
The humble act didn’t bother Him.
All mighty God lowered Himself and washed the feet of men.
It’s as simple as it is profound:
God’s love and care for His people is so incredible that nothing can stand in His way to show it.
The foot washing God.
Reason #345,973 to worship Him.