Would You Call Your Feet Beautiful?


Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash


Feet have been on my heart this week.


Not necessarily literal feet, but where I'm planted in this season of life. Maybe I'm growing up on the inside or I'm seeing things fresh in this season. But I'm pressing beyond the thought of "I'm this age and these are my goals." Now, I'm trying on the idea of "how can I be up to something good, right where I am?"


I think it's funny that feet are talked about in the Bible. Maybe it's just me and my warped sense of humor, but I can't read Isaiah 52:7 without smiling. In case you aren’t familiar with it or want to revisit it for laughs, here it is:

“How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings…” Isaiah 52:7 NIV

The idea of beautiful feet bringing good news and good tidings makes me happy. I love how this passage is so accessible. It doesn’t say, “people who know a lot about the Bible or people who are great at praying or sharing wisdom.” It says only how beautiful are the feet which bring good news.


I would not call my feet beautiful. If you checked them out right now you would see an inadequate pedicure job and funky toes. But with my ordinary feet, I have the chance to share encouragement, good news, life, and blessings.

Where are your feet taking you? How can you share the good news wherever your feet fall?

Whether you call yourself a Jesus person or not, I think it's safe to say we all are in need of more feet that spread good news. I don't think that always needs to be about quoting scripture, or deep Biblical wisdom. I think sometimes it's about simple stuff like listening, helping another where you can, noticing when someone gets it right, or forgiving when they don't.


Sometimes I think it's just doing the good thing right in front of you.

I remember a season of being bone-tired, mentally exhausted from caring for my elderly mom, and somehow homeschooling in the midst of all of it. As I checked out at the grocery store, the young bagger insisted on taking out my groceries and putting them in the car for me. It was not something he had to do, but he could clearly see I needed encouragement.


The simple act of putting groceries in my car felt monumental. Maybe he was just doing his job, maybe he was an overachiever. But his tiny act of care felt like someone saw me struggling and gave a small kindness to lighten my load. I wanted to weep with gratitude. His were the feet that loaded my groceries and brought me good news.


My hope is to be that today. Whether I’m talking to a neighbor, listening to a friend, or serving in my church. I want to be the beautiful feet that bring glad tidings and good news. Regardless of how inadequate and insignificant I am, my hope is that my feet can carry light wherever they go.

 

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