You Need New Feet.

Here's the story my "cloistered brother" told when I asked him how he came to know Jesus.

He was a professional scoundrel.  He was an alcoholic, did drugs, was a drug dealer, operated a prostitution ring, and broke every commandment there is.  That's why he's in prison for life.  While in prison he still did drugs and drank booze.  Where do the prisoners get the stuff?  Some they make from natural fruits and vegetables, and some are smuggled in.  He did everything.

One particular day, his cellie said, "You know what your problem is?  You need a new pair of feet!"  Since my "cloistered brother" was drunk and didn't care to learn what his cellie was talking about, he just waved him away and collapsed on his bunk.  

Somehow, that crazy statement penetrated his alcohol logged brain.  You need a new pair of feet.

He often wondered what it meant.  The next time he staggered into his cell and fell on the floor, he heard the statement, again.  "You need a new pair of feet!"  Right then, however, he didn't care.

The next morning, he did care.  He asked his cellie, what do you mean I need a new pair of feet?

You are always getting high or drunk.  Why?  Who are you running away from?

I don't know what you are talking about.  I'm not running away from anybody.

You only have one body, you know.  You only have one pair of feet. 

I don't know what you're getting at.

I can't explain well.  Come with me after supper, I want you to meet some guys.

After supper, we went outside to the basketball court.  Over in a corner was a table where some dudes were playing cards.  I was invited in the game.  They were playing cribbage.  The winners were paid in stamps.  Postage stamps are used as money in prison.  I kept up with them; I did OK.  But I made some friends--good friends.  They all were in AA and religious dudes. They were normal, not what I thought the Jesus freaks were like.  I particularly made friends with a dude named U-Haul.  He and I became close.  

One time when I got drunk, U-Haul was in my cell waiting for me.  You need a new pair of feet.  We stayed up all night talking.  It all came down to our bodies being temples of the Holy Spirit.  And we were only given  ONE.  My feet kept bringing me back to drinking and drugging.  I needed new feet to walk away from the rot.  I needed to keep my body clean and healthy, inside and out.  My new feet will walk me on a better path.  At the end of that path is God.  U-Haul said I should look into finding God.  U-Haul wasn't Catholic.  He was Protestant, but his faith was solid.  Since I owed U-Haul a couple of books of stamps, he said, he'd forgive my debt if I went to his Bible study.  I did and didn't understand what they were talking about. I was also given a Bible to keep.  I tried to read it but I opened to a genealogy reading and put the book aside. 

 

But I did want to start taking care of my body and be healthier--inside and out.  I started looking for God.  I joined Buddhism. I tried the Jews.  I went to Islam.  But I was more comfortable with the Christians.  Jesus said He loved me, no matter what I did.  Buddha and Mohammed never said they loved me. Jesus even proved that He loved me.

Finally, my new feet took me to a Catholic Mass.  At first, I was actually scared.  When I saw this long procession, led by a cross held high, and ending with a man in a strange costume, I wondered what I had gotten myself into.  But I liked the strange gestures, the prayers, the readings, and music.  What impressed me the most was the reverence of the people. They were really praying. When they went up to receive Communion some were so reverent they knelt.  Their faith was palpable.

I wanted to learn more about Catholicism.  I'm still learning.  I love it.