When shadows are all tucked into the blanket of sky and the moon shimmers as the world’s one great nightlight I come to the posture of humble submissiveness–that of kneeling to bring before my Father the minutia of a day. Somewhere in the middle of it all I ask a frequented question:
What wouldst Thou have me know tonight?
Then at the close of the prayer, I listen perched atop my bed covers, waiting, straining to hear the answer I’m sure will come. And all I can feel is a tingling, numb sensation in my feet, which I try to brush off and ignore. But the tingling intensifies and reality strikes me forcefully—-
this is the answer. You must walk as He would walk in order to walk with Him.
It’s as if the tingles are bathing my feet with a disciple’s purpose, imbuing a stunning transformation.
I hold onto the tingles as long as I’m able, willing them to stay for just a moment longer, hoping this revelation will not slip into forgotten by morning. But the miracle stays even when the tingle fades.
My feet feel somehow different, more holy.
And tomorrow I will look at my two feet with different eyes. Where will they go? What will they lead me to do? All is adventure and all could be holiness if I can grant my feet willing emulation of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
