The Gift

We hiked in the hills for a long, long way My privilege was to gift their feet that day Soak them in water, soothe with mint lotion Seemed to me just the right heaven sent potion My desire, you see, was to mimic my Lord Their refusal to allow it caught me off guard My gift was unwanted, unaccepted and scorned No concern had they; oh, how my heart was torn It occurred to me then how my Savior's gift waits To be opened and entered as tabernacle gates Will his everlasting Gift I glibly ignore As He washes my feet on His infinite shore