TOES

I am less than a week away from a family holiday at the beach: FIVE MORE DAYS.

The past several months have been physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting. I am counting down the days until I can step away from the stress for a moment and breathe.

My family made this trip the first time last May. We had such a lovely week everyone agreed a repeat was in order.

Last year, I did not get excited about the holiday in the months and weeks leading up to it. I have a long history of deep disappointment, and I was certain something would come up at the last minute to keep me from going.

Something did.

The day before our holiday was to begin, I followed an ambulance taking my mom to a hospital 3 hours from home. Over a a long sleepless night, still wearing the scrubs I'd worn to work the day before, I resigned myself to the fact that - yet again - my hopes of rest were frustrated. I was exhausted, but there was no rest in sight.

Then my younger sister rolled in like the cavalry and took over mom duty: Suzanne showed up at the hospital and ordered me to leave, go home and pack, and enjoy my family for a week. 💖

This year, I have been slightly more optimistic heading into the first full week of May. My youngest created a GoogleDoc for meal planning: I signed up to fix dinner on our first evening at the beach. I've stocked up on snacks. I planned a couple of rainy day activities for the grandkids, just in case. I've pulled out summer clothes to pack. And Saturday, I got my toenails done.

A pedicure is a rare treat for me. Like, maybe once a year? As I relaxed in the oversized armchair, the young man at my feet soaked and trimmed and moisturized and massaged until my tired calloused feet looked and felt brand new.

We chatted as he worked, and watching him work, I thought: "He is like Jesus. This is what Jesus does. Jesus washes feet, cuts away dead skin, restores the broken and weary, gives new energy and hope. And joy, He gives joy, sort of like French Raspberry #066."

I was almost in tears by the time the young man finished. I wanted to say to him, "You are so beautiful, so much like my Jesus" - but I didn't, because I thought that would be weird, and I was afraid he wouldn't understand.

(I am so tired of feeling "weird" - that label is burned so deeply into my soul - and I'm tired of being afraid. My therapist and I are working on that...baby steps.)

Today, I am thankful for gentle hands and a glimpse of Jesus. I am thankful for red toenails. I am thankful for my family. And I am thankful that rest is coming soon.