Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: FEET (01/17/19)
- TITLE: Focusing on Faking
By Betty Castleberry
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From this position, I had a great view of all the feet in my pew. While the pastor was saying something about not looking willfully upon sin, I was looking at a sweet little pair of delicate, shell pink sandals. The little girl who was wearing them had her toenails painted bright blue. I smiled, picturing those toenails covered with dirt when she played outside.
Her mother’s shoes were black spiky heels that revealed a lot of her lightly tanned feet. I wished I could wear shoes that showed off so much of my feet, but I had spider veins that crisscrossed mine. I have a friend who had her spider veins removed, but it cost an arm and a leg. Or maybe it was a foot.
I wondered if she’d recently gotten a pedicure. What did those cost now? What did they use to smooth away callouses? I heard they massage your feet. I bet that feels wonderful. She was probably wearing fancy nail art. Possibly a little bling on her big toes, too.
Next to her feet were a pair of boxy black shoes like the ones my grandmother used to wear, and they were, in fact, on an elderly lady. I hoped they covered healthy feet. Didn’t older people get bunions? I heard those were painful, although I don’t have any first-hand knowledge. Don’t they make some kind of pad things to cover bunions? Maybe she had arthritis or gout. Gout. Ouch. Talk about painful. That is supposed to be horrible.
Realizing my thoughts were rambling and I had no idea what the pastor was saying, I raised my head slightly. He was making his was slowly down the center aisle, still praying. I ducked my head and looked at my own feet. Red flats bought on sale. Nothing special about them, but they did match my purse.
Shrugging mentally, I studied the cowboy boots on the other side of me. They appeared to be good quality leather, although I’m no leather expert. Their rich chocolate brown stood out against the legs of his tan pants. These boots were dress boots, for sure. Probably no steel toes and definitely no scuff marks on them. The feet inside would be middle aged, masculine and maybe even hairy.
Hairy feet? Wow, Sherry! I chastised myself for having such bizarre thoughts in church.
Taking a risk, I looked up and saw the pastor standing very near my pew. Our eyes locked for an instant. Uh oh. Busted. Feeling guilty, I bowed my head and closed my eyes, but quickly opened them again. It was either that or start snoring right there in the pew.
The pastor’s voice boomed, “Every head bowed, every eye closed,” as he gave an altar call. I was positive he couldn’t actually see my eyes with my head down, but I sort of squinted, just in case.
He began praying about helping others, saying it didn’t have to be anything huge. Even a kind word toward someone or an understanding ear delighted Jesus. If we could do more, that was great. He encouraged us to make a meal for someone, go visit a friend, or use our talents in some way to benefit our neighbor. In other words, become the hands and feet of Jesus. I could do that. Finally, he had gotten my attention.
As people started going to the altar, I felt I should go, too. I told myself it was to make up for not focusing through so much of the service, but I knew it was more than that. I felt a deeper calling to go to the altar and pray about it, but my feet didn’t want to move. I glanced down at my feet and commanded them to step forward. After a few seconds, they moved me down the aisle to the altar where I promised to become a better servant.
Satisfied, I returned to my pew, but not before I prayed, “Hey, Lord, do you think you could find me a few dollars for a pedicure?”
Colossians 3:2 - Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.
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