painting nails and washing feet


Today was splendid. Really.

Today my heart and soul and chest and feet and ears and ankles and hands and nose were entirely filled to the brim with complete and utter joy. Truly. Exhilaration seeped from the very core of me, spreading throughout my entire body. I could hardly keep the smile off my face, or the laughter from my voice.

Today Jesus guided my hands as I painted the fingertips and toes of women affected by HIV aids.

Today I pampered and prepped and prettied up the hands and feet of weary women who walk very far and work long hours each and every day.

I decided my purpose is to love, and today I wanted to do just that.

I don’t know if I’ll ever explain this well - but the moment I had when I was kneeling on the ground massaging a woman’s tired feet, I felt Jesus kneeling beside me washing the feet of his disciples.

Jesus came to serve. He washed the feet of his disciples, and I figured since I can’t exactly wash their feet (our water has run out), I might as well paint their nails. And there’s nothing like a makeshift spa day to bring a couple of girls together - no matter if they live oceans away and have completely different lives. Oh my, how lovely it is that nail polish can be one of the greatest forms of communication! Who would have thought?

The ladies were so happy as the polish slid across their nails. It thrilled me. They told me they loved me and kissed me and stroked my hair and for those hours we just loved each other.

While I was painting some ruby red polish onto one of the lady’s fingers, she explained to me that she loves the colour red.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it reminds me of the blood of Jesus.” She told me. “And the love he has for each of us. His blood is just a reminder of that love for us. And now every time I look at my fingers I see Jesus.”

I may just paint my fingernails red as well.