When others met me when I was a child, they often exclaimed, “Hey! You have really small feet!” It’s true; I do. I was born with clubfeet, which means my scar-lined, size 5.5 wide feet (or size 36, if we’re being European about it) continue to make shoe shopping an adventure.
I’m grateful, however, that God has turned this seeming liability into a strength. I’ve written a poem, “Dithyramb* for My Club Feet,” which celebrates the unique insights that my feet provide me. And I now understand the value of providing care and love to feet, whether they are my own, or those of guests in my home.
I lived in China for several years. Across the world, I discovered there’s wisdom and hospitality in shedding the shoes upon entry, and wearing slippers in our residential sanctuaries. As the guest, it doesn’t matter if you are rich or poor, wearing stilettos or frumpy clunky shoes like the ones I often must wear–-the slippers equalize us all. As the host, I ensure that my guests have comfortable and clean options to protect their feet when they visit me. Slippers speak to a just generosity.
When Jesus washes the disciples’ feet, he honors the image of God in each person. I extend this bipedal practice today through the ministry of house slippers.