humble moments

Today we visited the neighbor lady's house. She lives a simple five-minute walk from ours but we are worlds apart, she and I. We sat under the shade of a skinny tree in her front "yard" (all-dirt area, freshly swept), she constantly aware of where I was in relation to the sun, always encouraging me to move over into more shade. We talked about the rain (we need more), her husband who died three years ago (killed by a neighbor), her grandchildren playing around us, her sore leg that is bothering her. She would lapse into her tribal kisukuma language and leave me hanging in the conversation, much to the delight of her older granddaughter who kept telling her "Grandma! She doesn't understand you anymore!" In the midst of this, Carter went with one of the girls to look at a jack fruit in the yard and stepped in chicken poop. "Mom, I kinda stepped in something..." This old grandma, who can't get up off the dirt, tells her granddaughter to bring some water. No big deal, right? When was the last time you carried your water two kilometers on your head to be used for dishes, clothes, cooking and bathing? I can't remember when I ever have either. Granddaughter pours a VERY generous amount (especially because she is the one who probably carries it) in a small basin and washes Carter's foot off. How humbling! What a visual reminder of the kind of service we are called to as Christians, coming from some very "heathen" people! What generosity shown to people who they know have so much more. And I thought, "When was the last time I washed anyone's feet?"
Jesus, make me more like you.