Elohim, Let Me Wash Your Feet

Tired from the long journey, want you sit down. Let me wash your feet. You have traveled far. Starting in your childhood in Nazareth your feet walked the distance. Your feet know the watery Jordan River in Jericho. They know Capernaum, the city of Galilee where you walked to seek anyone who would believe in you, yet found little there. You went from house to house ministering The Gospel of the Kingdom. Let me wash your feet. By the marks in your feet I see that you’ve traveled to Cana of Galilee. There you performed miracles for the people so that they may believe. You even walked on the Sea of Galilee, but even the closet to you did not yet understand. When your feet were too tired to continue you went to The Garden of Gethsemane on Mount Olives to pray. Your poor feet must have been bruised. Your feet did not forsake those who they knew; they went to Bethany where they met Lazarus, Martha, and Mary. They got a little reprieve there, but I don’t recall anyone washing your feet. Elohim, let me wash your feet. In Tyre and Sidon your feet performed more miracles for the people; you even went to the most wretched of people in Decapolis. In your travels to Caesarea Philippi your trusted disciple proclaimed who you were, but neglected to wash your feet. Elohim, let me wash your feet. Tired from their long journey, your feet made their way to Samaria where they rested a bit, but even while they rested, they taught. Your feet went to Magdala, Nain, and Gerasa. This was all during the time where people walked to travel. During your most trying hour while you were in the most agony, your feet went to Golgotha. Your feet traveled many-a-times in the old testament, and after your resurrection for a witness to the people. Elohim, your feet must be tired. Elohim, your feet must be bruised. Elohim, your feet must be sore. Elohim will you do me the honor of letting me wash your feet?