where I get really honest.

On this Holy Thursday.

I admit.

I have never washed another's feet.

I am called to serve others, as Christ did, but it is only in rare moments that I do it AS Christ would have.

I recently had to work on an oncology floor. I was supposed to be answering calls, it was a slow night in the nursery, and a busy one elsewhere.

I got a call.

It was room whatever, who knows, but when I walked in it was obvious what the problem was, the smell gave it away.

In my heart I had a choice- I could go get the nurse aid, who will wipe more adult bottoms this shift than I care to know about, or I can could get the job done. This sweet lady, old and tattered, needed cleaning.

I am more than qualified, so I go gather the needed things and go about answering the call.

Something in me knows that Christ made that choice. I am not proud, really, just so relieved He exists in me when I feel like I am so far from the mark.

Later that evening, a more disturbing scene. A woman who had gone to be with Jesus. Her body tells a sad story, pounds and pounds, heaps of pounds.

I wondered what she had been trying to feed all of her life.

the hunger, I imagine.

we are so hungry.

The nurse aid asked for my help. And we cleaned her. Her family weeping. They asked to be gentle. Was there any other way?

I have plenty of other admissions, too. and questions.

This week, as I went to Target for what felt like the millionth time, I felt like I was ready to turn it all in. Pack us all up. Move somewhere that felt more holy.

Give up my first world guilt, trade it in for some real life. real people. real problems.

On Holy Thursday I admit,

We have some things to think about.

How to live. To serve.

I admit.

I have no idea how.