Just as I am.

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. --John 13:3-5

I have been sitting with this passage about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples for awhile now. Here's what I think:

Jesus did not critically examine each foot, notice an unseemly callous or snaggled toenail. He just washed the disciples' feet in love, their hot, tired, smelly feet.

He did not correct them or offer them ways to better themselves and have better-looking tootsies.

He washed their feet. He lovingly, gently, sacredly washed their feet.

What's her point, you are thinking.

I am concerned over the lack of grace offered of late, in smallish ways. So often recently, I have observed people seemingly setting themselves above or apart from others-- by correcting them-- on Facebook. A lot.

A missing apostrophe. An extra apostrophe. "It's" instead of "its." "Who's" instead of "whose."

Seriously. A little love, please? 

I am a grading assistant, a writer and a former copy editor. I know the value of a carefully-chosen word, a properly punctuated sentence-- and in those realms, I have been known to bleed out an awful lot of red ink. It is my job; it is what I am expected to do.

But it hurts me to see a young girl tell the object of her affections, "Youre so cute," and have the young man point out she missed an apostrophe. (I cannot help but wonder if she still thinks he is the "bee's knees," or da bomb. I would be hurt.)

When Christ called us to hold one another accountable in love, I really do not think he meant policing our grammar. (After all, the early languages had no punctuation and used no contractions.) 

There is a time and a place for such things. But there is a greater time, a larger place, simply for love. 

I have "dancer's feet." Even though it's been many, many moons, I still have calluses on my feet, lumpy bones and all that. My feet are probably gorgeous by comparison to the feet of those men who walked everywhere, barefoot or in ill-constructed sandals, who bathed weekly at best, and then in relatively slapdash fashion, compared to my leisurely showers with fragrant gels.

Jesus did not care. These were people he loved. He did not love them (us) because of. He loved them (us) in spite of. In spite of the rough spots. In spite of the stink. 

This is a difficult path we walk together. Always, there are people ready to denigrate us in order to elevate themselves. 

Be gentle. Be loving. And for goodness' sake, be willing to overlook the things that just do not matter. 

As my mother taught me: Pick your battles.

Lord Jesus, so grateful we are that you looked beyond our dirt and our stink and our mistakes to see the beautiful children of God we were created to be. Thank you. May we see others through your eyes. Amen.