A new experience in a new year.

(If you read my last post, you know my Christmas pondering took me a month to get it from my head to my fingertips. That delay, in turn, put this New Year’s post two weeks into the not-so-new-anymore new year.)

My sweet, caring wife gave me a gift card for a pedicure. The gift came in a little bag I opened near the end of our family gift exchange.

I responded, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Rather than being hurt by my apparent lack of gratitude, she laughed. Along with the rest of the family.

It turns out my oldest son-in-law had started getting pedicures. And I started wondering about his masculinity. In my world, real men don’t get pedicures! Boy! Was I ever wrong? Several of my close male friends get pedicures, and some get manicures. Besides my wife, I don’t think any human hand has touched my bare feet since my last diaper change.

On January 4, 2024, I got in the car with Jan, and we went to the “salon.” Jan got me in the door and abruptly said, “While you’re here, I’m going to the grocery store.” She left me!!! ALONE!!!

The young technician took me up the stairs. We turned left and passed through what looked like a secret communication laboratory, where people wore shiny headgear to communicate with ET. They each watched me as I walked through their domain.

Thankfully, we went around a corner out of sight into what appeared to be a repurposed closet. I was instructed to roll up my pant legs, sit in the chair, and put my feet in the basin filled with swirling water. The chair looked like it came from the Enterprise Bridge. To my surprise and delight, the chair was also a massage chair.

My “peds” were soaked, clipped, scrubbed, defoliated with coarse sugar goo, and massaged with another goo.

The technician was a young mother of three and Jan’s long-time friend. Thankfully, she was not a rambling talker. The chatter outside of the closet was as incoherent as it was constant. She was kind, friendly, and, most of all, gentle. It was hard for me to let her into my space. Only Jan is allowed to touch me, skin on skin.

On the way home, Jan asked me about my experience. I told her the truth: the chair was great, and the pedicure was good. She told me we had another appointment in six weeks. I asked how much it cost. Assessing the cost against the pleasure received, I decided maybe twice a year would be sufficient.

I have no real point in telling you all this. Maybe it’s a confession of lost “machoness.” Perhaps it’s an announcement that I’m hipper than I used to be. Or perhaps I don’t want to lose the memory of a new adventure with Jan.

I hope your budding year of 2024 is filled with many wonderful and delightful adventures of life exploration. I also pray that you experience the coming of the Kingdom of God in grand ways in your journey through the trials and treasures that await you.

May you find all the wonder of the grace of God that awaits you on your 2024 journey.

Photo – This tree was less than a half mile from our home. It had recently died of natural causes. The tree’s skeleton was being lit by the lights of a nearby baseball field. It has since been removed.