You no doubt are familiar with the poem by Mary Stevenson called “Footprints in the Sand.” In this poem a man has a dream in which he is walking along the beach with God while scenes from his life flash in the sky. It is not totally clear to me how this scene is supposed to play out, but apparently for most of the scenes the man sees two sets of footprints in the sand: one belongs to him and the other set belongs to God. He notices, however, during particularly troublesome times in his life that there is only one set of footprints. He mistakenly assumes that during these troubling times God had left him alone. So he asks God why he would be left alone during the most difficult times in his life. And God’s comforting answer is that God was carrying the man during those times, and that is why there is only one set of footprints.
Now, I don’t mean to be disrespectful of this poem (there actually are other versions of this poem out there in cyberspace), but I want to offer an alternative interpretation of the man’s dream. There is more than one way to explain the single set of footprints. The scenario I have in mind is as follows: imagine you and a friend are on a walk in winter through newly fallen snow that is several feet deep. Each step is laborious, lifting one leg up high, moving it forward, and sinking it back into the snow, then pulling the other foot out and planting it a few feet ahead. This can go on for some time before it dawns on the both of you that it would be much easier for one person to blaze the trail and the other to follow in the cavernous footsteps. After walking single file like this for several hundred feet you turn around and look back at your tracks. Sure enough you can see when the two sets of tracks turn into one set. Neat story eh?
Well we can apply this scenario now to the footprints in the sand. The reason there is only one set of footprints during the difficult times is not that one person was being carried, but rather that one person was following in the footsteps of the other. Clever, I know. Now, you may be thinking that there is spiritual significance in that case too. Indeed Jesus is called the pioneer of our faith, and in this case we could say that Jesus is blazing a trail during difficult times and the man subsequently follows in those footprints. No doubt, this is true at times, but I have something even different in mind that is related to past posts about becoming a journeyer rather than an arranger.
This is a passage from Isaiah 30: 19-22:
O people in Zion, inhabitant in Jerusalem, you will weep no longer. He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry; when he hears it, he will answer you. Although the Lord has given you bread of privation and water of oppression, he, your Teacher will no longer hide himself, but your eyes will behold your Teacher. And your ears will hear a word behind you, “This is the way, walk in it,” whenever you turn to the right or to the left. And you will defile your graven images, overlaid with sliver, and your molten images plated with gold. You will scatter them as an impure thing; and say to them “Be gone!”
What’s intriguing (mystifying? angering?) about this passage is that the voice comes from behind. Perhaps the translation wasn’t meant to imply directionality, but I found it striking and true to experience. Sometimes I plead with God, “Please show me the way, or relieve this suffering, or bring healing to this wound.” And for a long time there is just silence: privation and oppression. But then comes the time when he hears (notice it is “when” he hears, i.e., it is not immediate). He no longer hides but decides to show himself. The Teacher shows himself as a voice from behind, as it were, a much more subtle form of guidance and companionship than being carried or led. The relief is sweet no doubt, but it really is a different kind of spiritual experience to have God show up behind me.
Nonetheless, we can notice the journeyer’s reaction. When I hear the Teacher’s voice I turn from my idols. As valuable as they are in monetary terms, my idols are worthless in getting me along in the journey. I am tempted to idolatry when things are hard, i.e., I turn to all kinds of things for relief and to feel better about myself and my life situation: good food, scintillating conversation, books, the past, entertainment, purchasing power, future goals, etc. Nearly anything that is good can become an idol in these situations. But they are always exposed for what they are in the end: good things become bad.
Returning to the footprints in the sand, in my interpretation the single set of footprints is the trace of my own journey made by the treads of my own shoes, while my Teacher walks behind me. I write this at a time when I am waiting for the Teacher to speak so I don’t mean to suggest that this is a neat and tidy picture. It is not poem material. At the moment I feel like I am just plodding along, alone and without much guidance. I rant and rave every once in a while, and most other times I cry for help. In my finer moments I have been identifying the idols that I am holding on to for security. So if you hear me mutter “be gone!” you will know why. There is no doubt that I would rather be carried at this time, but there is some assurance in knowing that this option is not the only, or perhaps usual, one God takes with me.
