You have to follow my thinking process, here. I was reading Sunday's Gospel Luke 7: 36-50. This reading tells the story of the woman washing Jesus' feet, drying them with her hair, and perfuming them. This washing of the feet reminded me of a few weeks ago. Hubby and I were at the beach. I went for a walk. It was low tide, and I haven't walked and explored the beach, since last year.
You know how it is. I poked in ebb pools, lifted periwinkles, watched sea anemones, slushed, splashed, and smushed, in the low tide mud.
I had a ball!
I had picked up so many interesting shells and rocks that my pants were hanging off my hips.
When I arrived back to the car, hubby was none too pleased. I smelled like low tide. "Wash your feet off." He said.
So, I walked back down to the water and let a few waves wash my feet off. But going back to the car, they got all dirty again.
Hubby was not amused. He told me to sit down with my feet out of the car, and he'd wash my feet.
I thought he was fooling.
He wasn't. He did.
It reminded me of Pope Francis I washing the feet of prisoners. I just had to take a picture. (Dick emulating Pope Francis I).
