God's Love

This morning when I picked up Sophia, her summer preschool teacher casually mentioned that Sophia had washed her feet. I didn't think much about it. Then I was in the middle of another crisis when I saw that she had posted this. Somewhere along the line, the parenting at our house might not be going so badly after all.

Warning. Long story but an awesome God moment. 

 Today at preschool (well most days... but today especially), my children taught me something. It all started when I was painting their little feet black and stamping them to make "ants" on a picnic blanket. The system went they sat in a chair, I put the paper on the floor, painted their feet with a brush, had them step on the paper, sit down, put their feet in a bucket of water, rubbed them to get the paint off, and then finally dried them with a towel.

 I did this for all seven kids. holding each little foot, washing it, and drying it off. As I was doing those things I would talk to my kids, smile, and talk. It ended up being a very connective experience for me. At that point... I had no idea how much it was really going to be. 

 Like I said we were making "ants on a picnic blanket", and to soothe my OCD about having only seven pieces of paper instead of eight (I am going to put them all together and display them like they were all a piece of one large "blanket"), I decided that I would do the same steps as above, but with my own feet. After all, you must have an even number. My children were all done and doing their own independent choice time. I figured I would just do my feet quick so I could get it over with.
As I sat down in the chair, I began to paint the bottom of my right foot black, and one of kiddos wanted to come over and watch. I said she could. She sat across from me in another chair, and watched me paint, stamp, and dip my foot into the bucket of water. As I was rubbing the paint off my feet, the child looks at me and says, "Teacher, can I clean your feet?". I of course said, "yes", not knowing the impact it would make on me. 

 That little person grabbed my disgusting foot, held it in her little hands and began to rub my foot until it was clean. She then picked it up out of the water and dried it with the towel. In between each toe, over and under the arch, and my heel. The whole time she was looking at me with a smile. 

 That's when it hit me. This overwhelming sense of love and honor. This little person chose to serve me. She chose me and my disgustingly dirty feet over her classmates and all the toys she could want. She chose to honor me and humble herself. Wow. Talk about eye-opening. 

 There it was, the humanization of God's love for me in a 4-year-old, blonde haired girl. 

 Thanks, Lord, for the reminder of how you came to earth, humbled yourself, and chose to serve even the most undeserving of sinners. 

 I heard you today, God. I think I even saw you.