Crowded House Reunite!

This is semi-old news, but still earth-shattering and possibly the one thing that is going right in my life right now. (I say this with tongue just barely in cheek...)

The following excerpt is from Frenz.com:
Crowded House founders Neil Finn and Nick Seymour have confirmed that they will be putting the band back together, with plans for a new studio album and world tour.

Talking about the decision Neil said "After spending most of last year making music and hanging out with my friend Nick Seymour we are now announcing our intention to reform Crowded House with a new record entitled Time On Earth. It feels right to us that the band should re-emerge at this time and together with Mark Hart we look forward to reconnecting with the audience that we established and for whom we still hold a deep respect. We aim to make the upcoming shows and the new music every bit as vital and spirited as what has come before. We are conscious that Paul Hester was above all a great drummer and we are currently auditioning to find someone special to take that role."

The band is currently putting the finishing touches on the new album for release later in the year. Tour plans are yet to be announced but the band have confirmed they will play the Coachella Music and Arts Festival in California, USA along with Bjork, Red Hot Chilli Peppers and Rage Against the Machine.
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While I've come to terms with the sad fact that I probably can't make Coachella, I remain hopeful that I'll catch a Crowded House Gig sometime this year! That will be a dream come true for me as CH gigs are historic, but I've never been at one. Neil Finn's solo shows are great, but the chemistry is a bit different. Of course, with Paul Hester [2nd from the left in the pic...God rest his soul] not a part of things, it won't be as amazing as it might have been, but still...Neil, Nick, and Mark are a rivetting combo.
And dare I say it...Crowded House *may* just be my favorite band in the history of the world!

Life at the moment--Yay for Music!

Hey!
Quick update from my last day off for the rest of the week...I've been on a mini-vacation almost as I had off of work Saturday through Monday, worked yesterday, and then had today off. I think I needed it. No great vacation for me, just sorting through some stuff.

I was so close to taking a Chinese language class at a local community college for this spring semester. It would have been hard, but I got myself looking forward to the challenge. That's rare for me. ;) So, I registered...and then found out I would have to pay a $795 non-resident fee if I wanted to attend the class as I haven't lived in Los Angeles for a year yet.
ARGH!
But, , maybe there's a reason for it. So I'm trying not to be too disappointed.

In other news, my pal Andrew has agreed to see not one but 2 upcoming concerts with me--Gomez (and Ben Kweller) at the Wiltern in February, and Muse @ The Forum in Inglewood in April. Yeah-hoo!

I also stumbled upon a cd in my collection a few days ago that I'm becoming enmeshed in right now. You know how it is when you love a cd, but after listening to it for a few months you put it in with the rest? You might pull it out on principle every now and then afterwards, but that special window of time it had in your life is gone. So that makes it even greater when you find another window of time wherein it seems to fit perfectly again. That's where I'm at.
The cd is called Odyssey Number Five by an Australian group called Powderfinger.
Good stuff. I recommend it.

Ok, look for the next God writing or Reflection on being 27 in about a week. We'll see what happens in the meantime.

Reflections from Turning 27 Part II: Rejoicing Amidst Sorrow

[this pic is called 'Joy and Sorrow' by Zhong Yang Huang]

Yes, picking up that thread I've been promising for a few weeks now...

So, the day before my birthday, at Canvas group, my friend Leanna gave me a gift. I didn't look at it until I got home. There was a card, and two items--one being a little framed picture of a small white flower. The picture says in both Korean and English something like, "as made sorrowful, yet ever rejoicing" which is from a passage in 2 Corinthians, I think. I thought about how appropriate that felt, but would have no idea at the difference 24 hours would make...

So rehashing what I talked about last, I had a good first part of my birthday with a great lunch and plans to go out to dinner and a movie that night. After lunch I checked my voicemail. There were a couple of "Happy Birthday" messages, which made me smile. But there was also something else...one of the girls from the group of teens I had led at my church in Minnesota last year had called me. I didn't completely catch what she was saying--something about a car accident, and someone getting hurt the night before.
I had some grocery shopping to do, so I waited until I got to grocery store #1 before calling her back to get the whole story. She didn't know all the details either, but what she could tell me was that Jami--one of the girls who came to our ABS (Area Bible Study) last year, had been in a car accident the night before. Everyone else walked away from it, but Jami hadn't been wearing her seatbelt. She had had to have brain surgery that night, and was in a coma. Things didn't look good.
I got through the call as best as I could and had a good 3 or 4 minutes before the enormity of what I just heard came pounding down on me. Jami is a junior in high school...the older I get, the younger that seems! Moreover, Jami was one of "my girls", as I think of them. And now it was quite possible her whole life might change, if indeed she could hold onto life at all.
My mind raced as I gathered my groceries. I almost started crying in public a couple of times, but was able to hold myself together until I was safely 'secluded' in my car. I decided to call a few of my closest friends and ask them to pray for Jami. Then I drove home.

I thought about cancelling my birthday plans. I really wasn't in a mood to celebrate, afterall. But no, that was probably the reason I had felt so strongly a day or two prior that I *had* to celebrate my birthday this year. So I did. I went out, and enjoyed a meal and a movie with my pals. I waited until the end of the night--when my friend Carrie asked me how my birthday had been--to mention Jami and ask people to pray for her.

The following Sunday, things took another interesting turn. At church we talked about the concept of "Joy". For the first half of the service I really didn't want to be there. I flashed back to when I attended The Rock in MN, and how shortly after I found out my uncle Carl had cancer, I was at a service where we were singing the song, "I'm trading my Sorrows", and I just wanted to dig a hole and crawl in. Why couldn't themes be sad when I needed them to be?!
Then I remembered the picture Leanna had given me.
And I thought about the things I *could* be joyful about...a few days after the accident, Jami was still hanging on. How many other people have had similar stories where the person they cared about died? Plus, I had the joy of knowing I had friends who *would* pray--even for a complete stranger--if I asked them to. I think that is evidence of love, and of faith. Those are both great things.

My joy increased a few days later when I got the update that not only had Jami successfully been taken off of life support, but also she was communicating and well. Apparantly the doctors and nurses of her hospital say she's the fastest-healing head trauma case they have ever experienced--some even refer to her as a Christmas miracle.
[Jami continues to improve, which is fantastic, and truly encouraging. ]

I don't know that these few paragraphs have made my point clear, so I'll just offer a few more words. I used to be the sort that honored sorrow above all else. I let sadness steal the wind from happiness' sails every time the two passed by each other. Now I'm realizing that happiness and joy has a viable position in life too. It doesn't nullify sorrow, but neither does sorrow nullify it. The two coexist. And I think maybe it is wisdom to see and recognize this, rather than enlist in either's army...

Words for Leon/Ode to Joy

[disclaimer: ok, this is one of the darker pieces I've written, but I'm willing to share it all the same]

Is this tightening in my Gut
a return to reality?
How is it that I forgot
and began to expect
thorns among the roses
rather than roses among the thorns?
What was it
that distracted my attention
from the fact
that 'dis' usurps the power of contentment
just as 'mis' overrules understanding?
How did it escape me
that just as a child's joy grows cold
when January's Sun shines bleakly
over the bounty of Christmas passed,
so in this life
all the goodness I've felt in
my bones
faded with a new sunrise?
Why can't I rest with the idea
that rest remains ever-ellusive
and dreams are meant to remain
just out of reach?
Tonight I will embrace my loneliness,
and give thanks for all I have not been given;
smile at every severed cord,
look neither into my future nor my past,
and delight in the impossibility of life.
This bullet may never become lodged
in my skull,
but every day I bite down on it
with breaking teeth...

Myth

[The following short story is the result of me being seized by a fit of inspiration yesterday. It's not meant to be exceedingly eloquent or anything, but rather more on the level of an ancient fable, legend, or myth.]

The King beckoned the two children closer.
As they knelt respectfully before him, he studied them closely.
The older--his son--had hair like gold, its curls adorning his head like a crown. His skin was bronze, his arms were strong, and a handsome smile was the evidence of his hearty laugh waiting to errupt.
His daughter was a different creature entirely. Her long, black hair veiled her ivory face as she bowed her head. Her body was slender, and her eyes were solemn. She brought with her a certain silence wherever she walked.
The King felt his heart swell with love as he considered these two children before him. He knew that as different as they were, they both had very noble hearts. He blinked his eyes to diguise the tears desiring to spill down his cheeks. He cleared his throat, and then reached out his arms, touching one shoulder of each child before him.
"My dear children," he began. "As you know, this earth is mine. It bows its knee to me alone. All that are within it owe me their allegiance, and not one corner of it is outside the jurisdiction of my kingdom."
The boy met his father's gaze and smiled a bit wider. The girl bowed her head a little lower.
"Dear Ones, I am going away for a time. This earth remains mine to give to whom I wish. Rather than leave such a treasure to one, I have decided to divide it between the both of you. You will share the ruling of this place while I am gone, but your kingdoms will not be the same...nor will the battles I ask you each to face."
The two were surprised by this revelation. The boy's smile faded almost entirely. The girl lifted her head to meet her brother's questioning eyes. Neither of them spoke as the hands of their father sqeezed each a little tighter.
"One day I will return and call you to account. Hold fast to what you know is right and you shall have nothing to fear."
The King removed his hand from the girl and placed it on his son's forehead. Then he continued.
"My Son, I give you the blessings of a firstborn. Yours is the sun, and the warmth of the summer. Your kingdom will include all the beauty of nature--crashing waves on the shores of the sea, mighty mountains that pierce the clouds in the sky, rolling plains, lush forests, and fields in full bloom.
Where there is happiness, you will find your subjects. In the births of countless lives, you will be King. In soaring choruses, in triumph and success, and in laughter, my Son, you will always find a home."
The boy rose to his feet.
The King moved to his daughter. One hand gently cupped her chin to tilt her head back. He looked kindly into her eyes, then took a step backwards. He extended his right hand toward her forehead, but did not touch her.
"My Daughter," he said softly. "To you I leave the burden of darkness. The rain, the fog, the night, and the shadows shall be your domain. In pain and sorrow and anger, you shall walk as a Queen. The coldness of winter, the ash of destruction, and the sighs of disappointment will all belong to you. As your brother governs birth, so shall you govern death."
The tears that had been building up in the girl's eyes could no longer be contained. The King's heart began to ache as he saw the wounded look on her face.
"Father--" she whispered as she tried to control her sobs. "Why?"
But the King made no move to comfort her as she knelt. Instead, he looked once more at his Son, then took another step backwards.
"One day I will return," he said firmly. "You are both noble of heart. Battles lay ahead for you both. I only ask you to hold to the right."
And then he was gone. No sign of departure; just a complete exit--as if he had never been there at all.

The girl continued to cry quietly as she curled into a ball on the floor. The boy looked at her for a moment, filled with compassion for his Sister. He took a step toward her, to comfort her. He stopped as an icy shiver passed through his heart. He longed for the sun and the warmth. She was so cold. No. There was a divide now that could not be crossed. She would always be his Sister, but he must leave her now. Their paths diverged.
She heard his footsteps as he walked away. She looked up through her tears and felt compassion in her heart for him. He seemed so confident, and yet, she knew he must feel lost in his heart. She should go to him; talk with him. Her ragged breathing steadied as she focused on getting to her feet. She took a step toward him, then stopped. A searing light flashed into her eyes and she gasped as the pain lodged in her head. No. He would always be her Brother, but her only comfort for now would be darkness. The divide could not be crossed.

Many years passed, and no word was heard from the King. Some said he was dead. Some said he had lost interest in the earth. And others began to say they doubted he had ever been King, if even existed. But the King never made a promise he couldn't keep. One day he returned, and summoned his Son and Daughter to his side again.

They looked even more different now than they had in their youth. They had grown into their identities. He smiled warmly as they knelt before him.
"My Children," he said to them. "I have returned to reclaim this earth. Please tell me of the states of your kingdoms."
His Son looked up at him with confidence, yet humility shone in his eyes.
"Dear Father," he began with his strong voice, "my heart rejoices in your return. It is only right to welcome you with a gift."
The Son reached for the stately crown adorning his head. It was made of the purest gold and set with the finest jewels of the earth.
"My Father, you made me a King, and now I return all that I have to you." He took the crown from his head and placed it at the King's feet. Then he bowed his head to the ground as his golden curls shone.
The King waited in silence.
After a moment, the Son looked up. "I am only sorry, my Father, that I have not conquered more for you. My kingdom has diminished since your departure, but it has not disappeared."
The King said nothing, but turned his attention to his daughter. Her jaw was set, but her eyes were tender.
"Yes, Father, it is true," she said. "My Brother's kingdom has diminished, but mine continues to grow. In this I can only presume I have triumphed in the battles you said would be set before me."
The King said nothing.
"It is also true, Father, that your return merits some sort of gift. Like my brother, I would gladly lay all I have been given at your feet..."
Her voice had been like steel, but on the last word, it caught. She reached up to her own crown--a twisted wreath of glass shards, bits of medal, and thorns. She held it out to the King with shaking hands and forced herself to continue.
"I would give all of my kingdom to you--but, I'm not sure you would have it." Each word had been an effort to extract, and now she could only bite her lip to choke the sobs.
The King stood silently for another moment, and then stepped forward to embrace both of his children together.

"My Son," he whispered as the mand held him tight. "You have won your battle. Your real enemy was invisible to you, but within every crevice of your own kingdom. You have not fallen prey to Pride, though it swung at you relentlessly. In every glory you received, you returned it to me as they rightful owner. My Son, your name is now Praise."
The King pulled his daughter even closer.
"And you, my Dear One, have also won--though it was not by the expansion of your kingdom. With each new mile you claimed, your real enemy grew stronger, but you have stood firm against Doubt till the end. My Daughter, I name you Faith, because even in the darkest places, you have kept believing in my goodness."
Then the King stepped back from his children, and left them embracing each other. The divide had been removed, and they were content in each other's presence.
"My dear Children," the King spoke again. "You have proved yourselves faithful and true in my absence. Therefore, as King of the Earth, from this day until the day the earth is no more, you shall remain in this embrace. Once you were divided and your kingdoms were separate, but now I have joined you together, and in this way you will reign in all the earth. In the hearts of men, Praise and Faith--light and darkness--will not be separated. You will be the double helix of all DNA; the sun and the moon of every day. Birth and Death will hold hands; Laughter and Sorrow will trade watches. And neither kingdom will overpower the other, until a new kingdom arises by my hand."

Today's random thoughts--including learned helplessness and vampiric flying!

Hey guys.
Coming at you live from a Starbucks a few blocks from my aparment!
Today is one of my days off of work.
I always have grand plans for my days off of work, and they usually end up getting derailed by something.
Life in Los Angeles can be complicated, and this must be exponential for a person like me who has a knack for complicating things (my 9th grade geometry teacher once suggested I consider future employment with the IRS).
For example...I'm holding out on joining a gym because there's something in me that can't stand spending $40 a month on membership if I don't have to. So, instead, I try to do some basic exercise in my room and get out for a jog a few times a week. Now, the jog thing used to be a lot easier when I was staying with friends near the airport, because the beach I have gotten to know and appreciate (Dockweiler), is about a 15 minute drive away. Then I moved. Now, I am too paranoid to jog on the streets in my area, and the nearby parks seem like either too much of a hassle to get to (ie Griffith Park), or not big enough to merit running around in, in the first place. So I still drive to the beach if I want to jog...which is at least a 40 minute drive.
I had plans to bounce out of bed this morning, and get my keister to the beach for a refreshing morning jog. But...I didn't want to wake up. When I did get up, a vague--but annoying--headache made it's presence known. I also have a commitment that I need to be at in Hollywood around 1pm, need to take a shower, and thought I should really check my email today. So jogging gets put off to maybe tomorrow after work. Ugh.

In some psychology class I took (maybe in tech college?) I learned about the idea of learned helplessness. I can't remember the whole shebang, but it was something like test subjects (dogs? Monkeys?) would get shocked whenever they would pass a line or something separating them from food or a toy or whatever. After so many shocks, the test subject would realize the thing it was going for wasn't worth it, so it would just lay down forlornly. The testers would then turn the shock-er off, and see if the test subject would try again. They wouldn't. Even though the most appealing treat in the world might be a few inches away from their nose, they wouldn't try to get it.
I feel like that a lot sometimes.
I might not be so good at explaining it, but it seems to be the same to me.
When I go to the grocery store I often feel frustrated and anxious because I'm surrounded by a plethora of choices for what to consume--the majority of which I've heard or experienced something bad about. Even raw vegetables could run the risk of being contaminated by some chemical or bacteria, and even if it were possible to live on water, I would probably be drinking stuff with too much chlorine in it or something.
With the way I run my life, and the way my personality is, I don't cook meals unless I have to. I settle into my routine of what to buy and consume because it allows me the liberty not to think too hard, and to bypass the guilt and/or trepidation of trying something that won't work, takes too much time to prepare, or ends up being bad for me.

My apartment has virtually no furniture in it. This is a fact that doesn't bother me much. I have one folding chair. A friend donated his futon to me before leaving town. My roommates have beds. The same friend also gave me his tv, and it pairs very nicely with my roommate H's dvd player. The place feels like home to me, and I try to keep it relatively clean. But would I ever invite friends over? Try NEVER! Am I a jerk? No, I just don't feel it's a very hospitable environment. I mull over in my head the fact that I could make it so if I would invest--buy a couch, a divider to keep H's section of the living room (aka H's bedroom) separate from the rest, hang up some pictures, etc. But the idea for shopping for such things makes me feel almost nauseaous. I feel like I can't justify spending my money on the stuff when I have other goals to save for (which mostly involve travelling), and besides, what happens if we all decide to move in another 7 months and I can't fit the stuff in my car?
I have similar thoughts about investing into a computer/internet hookup of my own...so instead I scavenge and make things work as best as I can.

Maybe I just need a good slap in the face...

Shifting gears, I had quite an epic dream this morning. I know it's a common thing to dream about flying. One of my pals from MN--Keith--takes pride in the fact that he lucidly taught himself to fly in his dreams. Do you ever fly in your dreams? Do you just discover you have the ability or is it because you're some sort of superhero? Well in virtually all of my flying dreams, I possess the ability only because I dream that I'm a vampire. It struck me this morning that this is odd.
Now, don't scream and run away from me yet. Though I may dream I'm a vampire, I'm always a good vampire in my dreams (if such a thing could exist), never suck anyone's blood, and am usually trying to defend family and friends from bad vampires. Somewhere in the back of my mind I'm always thinking, "Man, I'm in deep trouble with God now! How could I become such an unholy creature?!" Once I even remember thinking, "Wow, since I'm a vampire now, I'm really going to have to make a concentrated effort to keep seeking God so that I don't get distracted and just succumb to a vampire's life." Mostly these thoughts stay in the back of my mind though, as a sort of "I'll cross that bridge when I get there" deal. (like 'the rckoning' will come...)
So anyway, I dream I can fly because I'm a vampire. Often these dreams are really frustrating, because I'm getting ready to fight this monstrous head vampire guy (usually in an attempt to defend people I care about), and I discover that I'm losing my ability to fly. It's like I have to think about it really hard in order to get off the ground at all, and then in midflight I might suddenly drop because I lose my focus. Or I can't maneouver quickly, fly very high, or whatever. Maybe it's symbolic for something...I don't know.
Anyway, the epic dream I had this morning was not quite this way. I won't rehash the whole deal (because you probably feel like I've wasted enough of your time if you're still reading at this point anyway), but I will mention a few things.
The evil guy I was going to duel with was the guy who played the Russian boxer in Rocky IV. In my dream his name was Dago, but I can't remember what it was in the movie.
In this dream I could fly superwell and super-high...and it was very refreshing to me! I was also a character that wasn't really me for awhile, so that's part of it. The only time I had a technical difficulty was when my hands both got cut off, (Dago's sneak attack) and then I couldn't stay in the air until they grew back.
I also dreamt that I was trying to call some people to back me up, as I knew this fight wasn't going to be fair, and I figured if some people could fight with me, the odds would be much better. The two people I called couldn't make it though, which was too bad.
The dream ended before the storyline was complete, but it also featured running around in a chicken coop, and my laughing at this Dalek-looking creature (I would have no idea what that meant if not for Craig and Keith introducing me to Dr. Who a few years back) as I said, "You're not Davros!" (Anyone who hasn't seen Dr. Who is not going to know what that means...my apologies!)

Ah, well...day off proceeding...time is getting on my back again and I must walk home now and advance onto the next thing.
Thanks for humoring me.
And for the record, I will continue on with my "Reflections from turning 27" thread soon, I just wasn't feeling it this morning.
Ciao.

God Writing #36: Unlikely Leaders Part I

11/9/06

Last night at Canvas group, we ended up by talking about the concept of leadership. On a little dry erase board, we collectively created the image of a leader on one side and a servant on the other. Then the question was thrown out--"Which do you feel more like at this point in your life? Is this what you prefer?"
One guy in our group--Dave--commented on how he preferred being on the servant side of things. He noted that he's been "suckered into" becoming a leader at various points in his life, but he feels much more comfortable as a servant.
I could definitely relate. Although in most employment situations I've been in, I've often been raised up quickly as a leader, I feel much more content as a servant. I like to do what my surpervisor/boss asks of me, and do it to the best of my abilities. I like to offer my loyalty and allegiance to those in authority over me. And though it can be frustrating to submit when I disagree with a superior's judgement, I've learned howt to successfully do even that.
On the other hand, as a leader I can get frustrated easily. Sometimes as I try to 'steer the ship', it seems to take every ounce of strength to keep my shipmates from trying to grab the wheel. It's become popular wisdom to note that a leader without followers is no leader at all. When I doubt that anyone is following me, it can make me feel like a joke or a sham.
An older lady I used to work with years ago once used the phrase, "too many chiefs; not enough Indians." When I find myself in those sort of situations, I often jump at the chance to take off my figurative headdress.

As I've been reading my Bible lately, Simon Peter has really been standing out to me. "Now there is someone," I think to myself, "who is obviously a natural leader!" [more on that next week]
Backing up to the Old Testament though, it doesn't take a Bible scholar to note that God has historically had a strange taste in choosing leaders...

Joseph rose to become second-in-command over all of Egypt. However, he started out as a follower-less leader, despite his confidence. In Genesis 37 he shares a couple of dreams with his family which seem to foreshadow his future leadership. Their reaction was not exactly enthusiastic. His brothers hated him, and even planned to kill him.

Legendary King David also had to endure discouraging siblings. Just as God emboldens David with the courage to challenge Goliath, David's oldest brother tries to knock him back into his place.
"When Eliab, David's oldest brother, heard him speaking with the men, he burned with anger at him and asked, "Why have you come down here? And with whom did you leave those few sheep in the desert? I know how conceited you are and how wicked your heart is: you came down only to watch the battle." --1 Samuel 17:28
David's self esteem appeared to be in good shape considering he didn't let these comments stop him. Moses, on the other hand, had self esteem issues that became a major hurdle in his walk of faith.

Even as God speaks to Moses through the burning bush, Moses tries to say, "You've picked the wrong guy!"
Exodus 3:11--"But Moses said to God, 'Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?'" This continues through the next chapter as Moses tries to find a way out of the deal. God allows Moses to perform miraculous signs, but even that isn't enough. This culminates in Exodus 14:13--"But Moses said, 'O Lord, please send someone else to do it.'"
Verse 14 tells us that "The Lord's anger burned against Moses," but he also agreed to send Aaron--Moses' brother--to help him. Eventually, this reluctant leader came into his own, and his fame and leadership example are still known today.

Another reluctant leader, but one with a less happier story, was Saul--the man who became Israel's first King. When Samuel first tips Saul off that he has been chosen as Israel's King, his response is reminiscent of Moses.
"Saul answered, 'But am I not a Benjamite, from the smallest tribe of Israel, and is not my clan the least of all the clans of the tribe of Benjamin? Why do you say such a thing to me?'"--1 Samuel 9:21
This answer is also similar to that of another least-of-the-least: Gideon.

Judges 6:12-15: "When the angel of the Lord appeared to Gideon, he said, 'The LORD is with you, mighty warrior.' 'But Sir,' Gideon replied, 'if the LORD is with us, why has all this happened to us? Where are all his wonders that our fathers told us about when they said, "Did not the LORD bring us out of Egypt?" But now the LORD has abandoned us and put us into the hand of Midian.' The Lord turned to him and said, 'Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian's hand. Am I not sending you?' 'But Lord,' Gideon asked, 'how can I save Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.'"
Not only did Gideon feel his public standing was not up to par, but his mentality seemed to border on being cynical/negative when he suggested God had abandoned the Israelites. Yet, in a short amount of time, God gives Gideon the faith and the ability to lead a small troup of 300 men to defeat the huge army of their oppressors...

God Writing #35: The Need to Bare One's Feet

11/1/06

A few years ago, some guys from my church here in LA had a 'family night' party, where they invited a bunch of people to come over with the purpose of spending quality time with each other and our Father (in Heaven).
Toward the end of the evening, one of the guys announced that we were going to do a foot-washing.
I was petrified. I was expected to touch someone else's feet?! Even worse, I was supposed to let another person touch mine?!!!
This occurred at a time in my life when I seldom wore sandals. My feet were pale, and sock lint often collected between my toes. Some girls enjoy painting their toenails bright colors to draw attention to them. I was on the other end of the spectrum. My toenails are always closely shorn--I actually am in the habit of cutting them as short as possible. I barely even have nails on my pinkie toes anymore. (TMI? Sorry, friends! Ha!)
In other words, I considered my feet to be atrocities best kept well-hidden.

I bet that Simon Peter felt similarly when he discovered Jesus was going to wash his feet.
John 13 recounts the tale.
"He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, 'Lord, are you going to wash my feet?' Jesus replied, 'You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.' 'No,' said Peter, 'You shall never wash my feet.' Jesus answered, 'Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.'" (vs.6-8)

Whenever I used to hear or read this part of Scripture, I understood the scenario to be an illustration of Jesus' humility and servant-leadership. Indeed, it does show this part of Jesus' character well.
Looking deeper, however, I think Jesus' words illuminate that a principle is being taught.

In Acts 22, Paul recounts the story of his conversion. In verse 16, after he receives his sight back, he is told, "...Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name."
In Revelation 22:14, Jesus says, "Blessed are those who wash their robes, that they may have the right to the tree of life..."

When Jeus says to Peter, "Unless I wash you..." I believe he is referring to washing Peter's sins moreso than his feet.
It's one thing to know that Jesus paid the penalty of your sin. It's quite another thing to have that exact sin brought forth in your soul, examined, and then taken from you. Sometimes that process is so humbling, it's easier to say to God--"I'll wash my own feet--don't worry about it."
But we can't clean ourselves from sin.
We all need a Savior. But we also all need to let that Savior do His work. Refusing him is ultimately a form of pride that will only leave us dirty.
John 3:19-21: "This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. Everyone who does evil hates the light and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done has been done through God."
The more a person tries to hide a sin, the more it eats them up inside. But 1 John 1:8-10 gives another option for cleansing and freedom...
"If we claim to be without sin, we decieve ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. If we claim we have not sinned, we make him out to be a liar and his word has no place in our lives."

That night during the foot-washing I did feel a bit awkward, but I pushed through it. I'm glad I did. The simple exercise bonded the group of us in a way I hadn't felt before, and also served to reiterate that vulnerability is often essential to change.