Footprints in the Sand

One night I dreamed a dream.
As I was walking along the beach with my Lord.
Across the dark sky flashed scenes from my life.
For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand,
One belonging to me and one to my Lord.

After the last scene of my life flashed before me,
I looked back at the footprints in the sand.
I noticed that at many times along the path of my life,
especially at the very lowest and saddest times,
there was only one set of footprints.

This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it.
"Lord, you said once I decided to follow you,
You'd walk with me all the way.
 
But I noticed that during the saddest 
and most troublesome times of my life,
there was only one set of footprints.
 

I don't understand why, 
when I needed You the most, 
You would leave me."

He whispered, "My precious child, I love you 
and will never leave you.

Never, ever, during your trials and testings.
When you saw only one set of footprints,
 
It was then that I carried you."

- by Mary Stevenson

Footprints, too.

I dreamed I saw my life as a sandy seashore.

My first marks looked like two furrows in an unplanted field as I crawled on all fours alongside the water of life.

My two small prints joined a chorus of impressions as I trailed behind the walkings of family, then friends.

Then I met You . . . our footprints became four . . . and my journey . . . became Yours.

The tracings and trampings of others were always before me, behind me, and around me . . . but our way was two . . . and I could always distinguish our prints from all of the others.

I even learned the lesson from seeing a single pair of deeply set indentations . . . sometimes you carried me.

But tonight I saw a confusion of scrapes and circles, backwards and forwards. A disarray of digs, pivots, drags, and jumps. Sand kicked and tossed, ‘round and ‘round, no progression, no progress, no advance, no promotion.

“What happened, Lord? Did I lose my way? Did I lose my mind? Did I fail or fall? What was this mayhem, this havoc, this seemingly pointless commotion? What gave rise to this disorder and pandemonium in our journey together?”

He laughed at me with that warm familiar ring of soul-thrilling amusement, compassion, and adoration . . .

“Child,” He said with a lingering, admonishing smile in his voice, “that was when we danced!”

(Based on a 1990 poem by Mark Littleton in Escaping the Time Crunch)