Several days after Mom’s first round of chemo, my sister and I were at Mom’s house helping care for her.
We were cleaning the house real good, and trying to get Mom’s fall decorations out around the house. She loves celebrating the seasons and her house is always decorated so wonderfully.
Mom was feeling really bad. The chemo was showing its colors.
One of the side effects of her cancer had been swollen feet and ankles. It had started several weeks before.
That day, her feet were extremely swollen, cracked and dry. She asked me to take the polish off her toenails. A simple task she was no longer able to do.
I jumped at the chance to do that for Mom. I got all the supplies I needed and went to work.
After I removed the polish, I got some lotion and covered her feet with it. I rub her feet gently because they were tender and sore.
She said, “This is humbling….to have someone clean and care for your feet. I’m sorry you have to do this, Traci.”
“Mom, don’t worry about it. I consider it an honor.” I said.
And I did.
As I rubbed the lotion on her cracked and swollen feet, my heart swelled with love for my mom.
I thought about all the acts of love those feet had performed over the years.
Those were the same feet that pushed a rocking chair back and forth every night as she rocked me to sleep as a baby.
Those were the same feet that ran to my side as a child whenever I was scared, hurt, or just needed a hug.
Those were the same feet that pushed the pedal of her sewing machine as she made my sister and I matching outfits when we were young.
Those were the same feet that also pushed the gas pedal in the car as she drove me to countless cheerleading practices, softball games, and school events.
Those were the same feet that excitedly jumped up and down with me in the kitchen when I found out I got my first teaching job.
Those were the same feet that have walked into hundreds of homes to deliver a meal or offer a prayer for someone in need.
Those were the same feet that proudly walked down the aisle at my wedding.
Those were the same feet that stood in the choir loft at church as she sang praises to her Lord with all of her heart.
Those were the same feet that have done silly dances in the living room to make the grandchildren laugh.
Those were the same feet that have stood firmly on the solid rock of Jesus Christ and His word.
And now, those were the same feet that lie swollen at the foot of a bed. And oh how I know that she would love to stand strong on those feet once more…
to dance with her husband
to play with her grandchildren
to cook a meal in her kitchen
to go to church
to walk a thousand more days with her family
Thank you for my precious mother and her beautiful feet. Thank you for the path that she has walked in service and devotion to You. Thank you for the example she has given us all to follow. Bless her and strengthen her with your might. Amen.
"How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!" (Romans 10: 15 KJV)