Footprints with a Twist-Part II

There is no doubt that the imagery and faith conveyed in the poem, "Footprints in the Sand", are beautiful, personal revelations by the author. I am positive that many people have found consolation and hope via this poem. In fact, I have found inspiration by reading this poem in times of difficulty.

So why do I say my experience has been different from the warm and fuzzy ending? When I have spoken with people about this, I usually get a laugh and a comment, "That's twisted." So be warned.

When I have been carried, I have not necessarily gone quietly. I was probably carried in a fireman's hold because I was kicking and screaming. I could have been carried, well, dragged which would have left a stream of lines and footprints, indicating I was trying to run away. I was carried like a rebellious child throwing a tantrum because I didn't like what was ahead of me. I didn't want to face it. I didn't want to deal with it.

It? What is "it"?

I certainly didn't volunteer to be a mother of two autistic teens, let alone of four kids with disabilities at one point. I didn't want to mourn a child lost in a miscarriage. I could list a myriad of issues and problems. Alas, everyone has things to handle, and everyone's ability to do so varies. So who's to judge what is a hard life or who's problems are bigger?

I like happy endings. I root for the underdog. I like things simply stated. I acknowledge what is left unsaid. Some things just can't be expressed through words. Both love and pain make us grow, whether we want to or not. The only solution I see is trust in the Good Lord, whichever way he carries us. It's an act of faith that gives me hope.

Footprints with a Twist-Part I

Most people are familiar with the poem of "Footprints", and the usual reaction is a favorable one, "I really like that."

I disagree.

The end of the poem says that the Good Lord was present, actually carrying the individual at the lowest part of his/her life. That is the warm fuzzy-ending that makes everyone happy. Note that I am not disputing it. I have been carried many times, probably more than I know.

One thing is missing: how is the individual carried?

I suspect most people would envision a warm envelopment between a loving parent and child. I can easily see a father's hug shielding his child from the world. He carries his child effortlessly. He comforts his child, assuring that his child is protected. No harm will come. No hurt. His child is loved. His child needs to know nothing more, but His love.

My experience is radically different.

photo credit: almostsummersky