Washing Away 2020

When I was little, every summer I would go to a cabin on a lake up north with my grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins. Some of my favorite childhood memories are from those times on the lake in that little cabin.  

I can still hear the distinct sound of the screen door slamming and the old wood floors creaking under my feet. I can still smell that lake air, the old blankets and the bonfire smoke in my hair. I can still feel the smooth lake rocks underfoot and the tickle of minnows nibbling my toes.

But my favorite cabin memory of all, is of my grandma washing my feet. 

Night would fall and as the loons began their peaceful calls out on the lake, Grandma would have a large galvanized tin bucket with warm soapy water out on the deck. We would run around barefoot all day, so our feet would be filthy by bedtime and she didn’t want those dirty little feet in the clean bed sheets. (I don’t blame her!) So, every night, she would stop us before we went in the cabin and wash our feet out on the front deck steps.

I can still remember the way the warm, sudsy water felt on my cold, dirty, callused feet. After a long day of running around barefoot on beach sand, dirt paths with sharp rocks, tree roots, pine cones and fallen leaves, my feet would be so dirty, callused, and scraped-up. When the sun went down, the bonfire fun began (roasting marshmallows and making Tonka pies—if you don’t know what those are, Google it—you’re welcome!). The chill of the night air at the lake was enough to make my little toes numb, so plunging my frozen feet into that warm bucket of water would send happy shivers up my spine. Grandma would smile at me and slowly, lovingly, begin to wash my feet. She was never short with me or upset at how dirty my feet were—I think she honestly enjoyed this time with me as much as (if not more than) I did. 

She was a gentle, sweet soul, my grandma, and she had such a peace about her. (I know now the peace she carried was from her walk with God, and I would find out later in life that she prayed for me every day. I believe a lot of who and where I am today is a result of both my grandmas’ prayers. ❤️) 

We would talk about the day’s happenings as she washed the dirt of the day away from my feet. I would tell her how I chased Snoopy, their black and white dog (I think he was a Border Collie), as he barked at the waves lapping the shore. Or how I sat silent and still for hours in the shallow end of the lake until the fish came to nibble my toes. I was always so close to catching one in my hand! She would smile, giggle and wink at me as she washed my feet. Funny how something so simple has become so meaningful to me now.

There’s something so symbolic about foot washing. The action of literally and figuratively washing away the dirt of the paths you’ve walked, the places you’ve been, the scrapes and bruises you may have picked up along the way. And most importantly—having someone who loves you enough to humble themselves to do that for you. 

Jesus washed His disciples feet the night before He was crucified. This moment was so important, that He took the time to do this humble, sacrificial act on His last night on Earth with us as a man. 

I believe a lot of us need to wash away the dirt and debris of 2020. To put the feet of our heart into that warm, sudsy water and allow God to lovingly wash away the buildup of a long, difficult year. 

Allow His hands to massage the cuts and bruises of loss and pain. 

Allow the water of His Word to soak and soften your calluses of cynicism and walls of self-preservation. 

Allow the warmth of His touch to reach the coldest parts of your preconceptions or judgement. 

Take time to talk to Him about the year’s happenings—things you’ve lost, things you’ve learned, things you’ve kept inside, and things you’ve numbed because of the staggering amount of pain and strife around you. 

Allow yourself to see the dirt of 2020 being washed away today. Recognize how the journey through this year may have left you feeling tired, dirty, callused, bruised and scraped—but you made it! And you never walked the path alone. 

God was there each step of the way, whether you felt Him or not, whether you saw Him moving or not, whether you allowed Him in or not—He was still there—and He walked each step with you.

Ask God to show you where He was for you in 2020. You might be surprised at what He shows you. ❤️

Let’s allow Him to wash the dirt of 2020 away before we slip into the clean sheets of 2021. 

Let Him restore hope and soften our hearts to feel and express His love (to ourselves and to others) fresh and new this year.

And finally, let’s rest in His peace. The rest that only comes after a long day when you finally slip your clean, soft feet into your fresh sheets and lay your tired head down on the pillow. 

The rest that only comes when you know you are fully loved, fully known, safe, protected and cared for.

He’s already walked out into 2021 and made a path for us with everything we need. And if our feet get dirty along the way, He is waiting for us at the close of each day with a warm bucket of soapy water and a loving smile on His face. (He might even have a little laugh or a wink for us too.) ❤️

My grandma, holding my hand. I love the look in my eyes and how we are holding each other. 

Fishing off the dock at the cabin with my grandpa and their dog, Snoopy. (The sweetest dog ever.)