I’ve always had a thing about feet. Now, don’t go into the fetish channel here. I looked up the definition, and that’s not what this is, believe me. I’ve just always been observant about a lot of things, especially feet.
My mother and my sister had feet that were definitely not beautiful. I used to gaze at them and tell myself my feet would never look like that. They both had thick ankles, ingrown toenails, and rough callouses. My mom said her parents used to say she was a “big footed Szourian” (spelling for pronounciation like my mom did). She was from Missouri and wore size 11/12 shoes. My sister’s toenails were curled way into the sides of her toes, long and pointy, and she had deep, rough, cracked callouses on her heels. She suffered continually with plantar warts that caused her to walk on the sides of her feet. They looked painful, and well just awful to me.
During the depression mom had been forced to wear second hand shoes that were too small for her when she was young, and she had experienced some frostbite at times. After I understood what had happened to my mom’s feet, what had caused her thick yellow horn-like toenails, I was much less horrified. My sister struggled with a lot of low self-worth issues, and she rarely took care of herself and her own needs. Strange though, after she had chemotherapy treatments, the callouses and cracks on her feet disappeared. I came to understand that her poor care for herself came from some deep hurt in her life, and I didn’t look at her feet with such disdain anymore.
But all that aside, I somehow developed the ability to identify a person by their feet. Why? I can’t answer that. I attended a boarding school during my high school years. In the girl’s dorm bathroom, I could look at the feet in the stall next to me and know who was sitting in there. I could tell by their shoes, their toenails and the shape and size of their bare feet. I didn’t have any weird feelings about it, I was just observant about what people’s feet looked like and kept the knowledge about it filed somewhere in my memory banks.
I paid a lot of attention to my own feet. I had to have the perfect shoes, and lots of them. They always had to be sexy and cool. I kept my callouses gone, my toenails trimmed and painted, and used lots of moisturizers and exfoliants on them. I didn’t feel like I was groomed or ready to go out into the world if my feet didn’t look right, even if they were in shoes where no one could tell. Perhaps that came from the same place that told me if I was going to have company visit, my closets and drawers also had to be neat and immaculate.
These days at my age, it is quite a struggle to keep nice looking feet. They’ve spread out, with arthritic crooked toes, toenails that are difficult to trim, and callouses that take daily attention. Polishing them myself is a marathon event and I shy away from pedicures. I’ve worked in salons, and I know sanitization is often not a priority.
Now I choose shoes based on whether they are comfortable and will help me walk safely, and also if I can find something “cute” that meets these requirements. The days of running around barefoot, cleaning house and cooking – well that’s over. I can’t do my bohemian hippie look much anymore. But, I do what I can to keep my feet healthy and comfortable.
Feet are an extremely important part of our anatomy, and if you think about all that they do for you, all the punishment they take, the demanding expectations, they become nothing short of miracles at the end of our legs. In my gratitude journal, I am thankful that my feet work as well as they do.
Recently I went to a Zumba class (don’t ask me why) with a friend of mine. It will be easy she said, you will enjoy it she said. Everyone was hopping around, tapping their feet and rapidly moving them around. As I watched myself in the mirror at class, I became very depressed. There was no way I could do those moves, even if I went to class every day for a year. My feet and legs just don’t work that way anymore. I felt like the elephant in the room so to speak. As the ladies were doing their sexy moves and shaking their booties, I was coercing one leg at a time to lift up and move into another position, already miles behind the step and rhythm. Later I just spent a lot of time laughing at how I must have looked. It became very funny to me.
I decided to take a look at what the Bible promises about my feet and legs. This is probably because I do have mobility issues, bad knees, poor circulation in my legs, and a lot of pain. It can be discouraging at times, and a source of worry and anxiety. The issues with my feet and legs often affect my quality and enjoyment of life, particularly in outdoor activities. But even with this difficulty, I still continue to garden and go on walks in my neighborhood and along our beautiful river. It is important to me to keep moving.
I found a lot of comfort and understanding in the following texts just from a small part of the book of Psalms and Isaiah. I know there are many more in other passages. Seeking comfort and assurance in God's word is how I choose to live every day.
I am not going to write out each text, but if you can identify with anything I’ve said, I encourage you to go to the passages and read them carefully.
Psalm 18:33 – He makes my feet like the feet of a deer. Deer run, jump, leap and frolic!
Psalm 18:36 – So my feet did not slip. I don't always have to fear slipping.
Psalm 18:38 – He puts my enemies under my feet. I can trample my fears and trials.
Psalm 18-29 – By my God I can leap over a wall. Leaping - over a wall? Yes please!
Psalm 25:15 – He plucks my feet out of the net. My feet can often get tangled in problems.
Psalm 26:1 – Trusting in the Lord, I shall not slip. By trusting God I will not slip.
Psalm 26:12 – My foot stands in an even place. Walking on even ground is easier.
Psalm 31:7-8 – You have set my feet in a wide space. I like enough room for my feet to move and stretch.
Isaiah 52:7 - How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace. My feet are beautiful!
And of course, one of my all-time favorite passages:
When I said “my foot is slipping” your unfailing love, LORD, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy. Psalm 94:18-19 NIV
You definitely bring Good News and your feet are amazing! Love this!