How Beautiful Are the Feet ....

I remember, a long time ago, a message given by Pat Hamman at Northwest Community Church.  Actually, I don't remember the message, per se, as that I remember an illustration he used in the message.  He quoted Romans 10:15, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" (Which, of course, is a quote (paraphrase) of Isaiah 52:7).  I don't remember why he specifically used that illustration, but I do remember that he went on to describe his feet as the ugliest, nastiest feet ... but because "he brought good news", they were beautiful.

I have ugly feet.  I remember thinking (I was probably in my early 20's or late teens), "his feet are probably not as ugly as mine."  Granted I don't have leprosy or any severe foot fungus, but my toes are crooked, my toes are also webbed and I get weird foot sores sometimes.

They are so ugly ...

I have always been self-conscious of my feet.  Growing up in the Northwest, there was rare occasion to have my feet "on display".  Wearing shoes and socks most of the time, they were hidden away.  But then there were times when it couldn't be avoided.  Inevitably, at some gathering of some sort, mostly because of my "webbed" toes, someone (usually family) who had seen them would declare, "You have to see Paul's feet!" 

Am I a novelty!?  To be displayed between the "Bearded Lady" and an "Albino Crocodile"?

I remember one particularly scarring incident.  I was in junior high, and our family went to "Wild Waves" (a water slide park).  My dad and I were going down the big slide over and over.  He was perfecting his method to go faster and relaying to me his trial and errors.  "Get up on your heels and shoulder blades," he proclaimed, "But not too fast, I ran into the person in front of me last time."  I remember standing in line, excited to go faster, probably envisioning an outside pass inside the water tube.  Then all of a sudden, my excitement was deflated.  A couple of girls in the line next to us were snickering and whispering to eachother, "Look at his feet!"  and, "Oh my gosh they are so ugly!"

Combined with my already heightened self-consciousness of being in Junior High, wearing no shirt* and my peculiar feet, I was devastated.  I don't remember much of the rest of our time there, I was depressed and enjoyed none of it.

Fast forward 20 plus years.  We now live in Hawaii, where bare feet and flip flops are everyday things.  There are "Beautiful Feet" everywhere!

Apparently crooked and webbed toes are hereditary.

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*Maybe someday I'll write about why "no shirt" is a self conscious thing ... even to this day.