We See a Lot of Feet in Tonga

Not everyone is like the Kentucky hillbilly who never wore shoes.  One evening, he came into the cabin and stood by the fireplace. His wife said, “I reckon you’d better move.  You’re standin’ on a live coal.”  He replied, “Which foot?”

Most of us don’t have feet that are so heavily calloused and insensitive.  The weakness of the great warrior Achilles, after all, was his heel.  A  dog may be man’s best friend, but we call our own feet “puppies,” our comfortable shoes “hush-puppies,” and we say “our dogs are tired.”  Sometimes, a swift kick (with the foot) in the rear is all it takes to get us moving.  If we try to hold on for dear life, we “get a toe-hold.”  When we want to accomplish more, we “lengthen our stride.”  Things that are really easy are “a cake-walk.”   We “take a step back” to appraise a situation objectively, but if we’re ready to go right now, we “step up to the plate.”   When we relinquish our position of authority, “we step down.”

If we have “feet of clay,” we have trouble getting things done.  When we encourage someone, we tell them to put both their feet on the ground.  If we haven’t got a care in the world, we are “foot-loose and fancy-free.”  If someone’s philosophical position is unsupportable, we say they “haven’t got a leg to stand on.”  If we want to be upwardly mobile, we try to “get our foot in the door.”  If the shoe fits, wear it.  If we stumble over our words and say something inappropriate, we’ve “put our foot in our mouth.”  When we venture into new territory, we are “getting our feet wet.”  If we are fully committed to a new course, we “jump in with both feet.”  If we are slow to adopt a policy, we are “dragging our feet.”  When we “kick the bucket,” we are carried out “feet first.”  Then we are buried “six feet deep.”  If we are awkward, we have “two left feet.”  If we are true to our principles, “we toe the line.”  Because feet are sometimes seen as a liability, we see signs that read: “No bare feet allowed,” or “No shirt, no shoes, no service.”  “Walks” and “runs” are integral to baseball.  A “false step” might bring us to defeat, but putting “our best foot forward” could carry us to victory.

If we move recklessly forward, we call it a “mis-step.”  But if we move quickly, “we step lively.”  If we are true to our principles, we “have our feet planted firmly on gospel soil.”   If we consciously try to make a good impression we “put our best foot forward.”  But sometimes, we “take a step backward.”  Distances are measured in feet.  Light is measured in foot-candles, and power is measured in foot-pounds.  If we are nimble, we are “sure-footed.”  If we are passive, we take timid, halting, or hesitant steps.  When we dance around a dominant personality, we are “walking on eggshells.”  If someone faints, we elevate the feet to improve circulation.  When we have had a long day, we “put our feet up.”

When Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, he said: “That’s one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.”  Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “Build a better mousetrap, and the world will beat a path to your door,” presumably on foot.  During Israel’s exodus from Egypt, they walked through the Red Sea on dry ground.  (The pursuing Egyptians should have followed their example.  Instead, they and their horse-drawn chariots were drowned).  Richard III cried, “A horse, a horse.  My kingdom for a horse,” presumably because he didn’t think himself adequate to the task when afoot.

We talk about the steps of repentance.  When we exercise unrighteous dominion, we overstep our bounds.  If we carelessly put our feet down without forethought, they are sometimes caught in a snare.  Depending upon our perspective, obstacles in our path can be seen as stepping-stones or stumbling-blocks.

The stage-lights that illuminate a set are called “foot-lights.”  The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.  We maintain our forward momentum by continuing to put one foot in front of the other.  If a tennis player crosses the service line too quickly, he commits a foot-fault.  A gentleman’s servant is called a footman.

In the advanced stages of diabetes, peripheral circulation is so poor that all feeling may be lost in the feet.  When this happens, there is a tremendous risk of infection from even minor irritations that go unnoticed.  Stepping on a nail, for example, can have devastating consequences if we are “past feeling.”  There are spiritual equivalents that are equally devastating that can be traced back to the feet.  The feet can take us on detours so that before we realize it, we are walking around in our summer home in Babylon.

Feet are one of the miracles of creation.  Leonardo daVinci called them “a masterpiece of engineering and a work of art.”  They contain one quarter of the bones in our bodies.  The average person by age 55 has walked the equivalent of two and a half times around the world.  In all our perambulating, the “lives of great men all remind us we can make our lives sublime, and departing leave behind us footprints in the sands of time.”  (Longfellow).