My five-month-old son Titus and I had the opportunity to visit my grandparents this past weekend. They live in busy, beautiful San Diego. Though I’m never thrilled to travel, I was excited to introduce Titus to his great-grandparents. At age 80 and both very mobile and of sound mind, they too longed for the chance to visit with their current youngest great-grandchild. So he and I packed up and said good-bye to Mom and sister at the airport early on Friday morning and were on our way - me with a suitcase on wheels, car-seat rested against the pull-handle, a backpack over my shoulders and Titus against my chest in the infant carrier; facing outward, arms and legs spread wide and gumming what-ever he could reach with his mouth.
This would be his first plane flight and I was interested in how he would do. So we did the usual check-in, security-check, boarding, taxi and take-off. Then two and a half hours later we were on the ground in San Diego at our gate and quickly on our way to baggage claim. Aside from the brief greetings from complete strangers and flirtatious smiles from all kinds of people as we traveled, Titus was a complete stud and caused me no unwanted stress. Truthfully, he allowed me to manipulate him and his schedule without complaint. It was great fun. If he was old enough to talk, I think he’d agree (that it was fun)!
The following will seem like a very random shift. But hang with me.
Remember that old poem about footprints in the sand? Here’s the gist: Basically, when going through tough times in life, you look back to see a single set of footprints in the sand and think God left you all alone to trudge forward by yourself. The big reveal at the end of the poem is that Jesus looks at you and says those single set of footprints weren’t yours but his – that he in fact carried you through those times of challenge and hardship. Cue the orchestra, shed a tear, pass around the Kleenex and walk away inspired!…
…Hmmm…Not my initial response. I remember first reading this poem when I was a teen and just rolling my eyes; “Lame” is probably what I thought. Of course, the message of the poem hasn’t escaped me, but I have never been able to get over my initial reaction to the poem – “Laaaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmmme”. Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn’t the words within the poem or the message it conveyed, but the aesthetics of how it was displayed. For example, I’m pretty sensitive to how art is presented and I often wonder: Is this designed for the mass market or a select niche? How deep do I need to look for meaning or am I being spoon-fed a perspective? Am I being played for my dollar and a good feeling? – These type of questions will sometimes run through my head.I suppose I could think up all sorts of other uncertainties to illustrate my point, but this is what I believe my issue was all those years ago. I hated the cheaply made frame the poem was housed in. I massively disliked the manipulative ocean and seashell picture - including the obligatory footprints - embossed on the matting under the clear plastic “glass”. And even back then, I couldn’t believe someone “made-a-buck” on this “garbage”. Even more, that someone would buy something so cheap. Even now I bristle a bit when I consider the fact that quality “source material” is often treated without respect, marketed and sold. It is especially irritating when people are unashamedly willing to tap the Christian sub-culture and peddle crappy spiritual goods. But now I’m beginning to really deviate.
Like the poem “Footprints” alludes to, I love the reality that Jesus will never leave us or forsake us (Deuteronomy 31: 6 & 8) and that he has given us His Holy Spirit as our comfort and guide (Acts 5:32). Theologically, regardless of where you stand, the Bible is clear that beyond guidance and comfort, the Holy Spirit has been given to us to help us love (Romans 5:5), give us joy, as well as peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Galatians 5:22). And it is through His power and blessing we are carried through life – Remember, His footprints, not ours. I get it!
So now, let’s head back to Titus, Grandma and Grandpa Box and me in San Diego this past weekend: I had the chance to introduce Titus to his great grandparents; “Titus Wilson Box, let me introduce you to your Great Granddad, Billie Wilson Box Jr. He loves you so much.” (My Grandpa is 6 foot 5 inches and weighed a good 225+ pounds most of his life, was a California Highway Patrolman and was the son of Billie Sr. – a Texas farm boy who had no issues spelling his name or his son’s like a girl! I love it.). How special that introduction was!!! I thank God for the strength and ability to travel so far so fast and to bless my family in such a wonderful way. I thank God for the blessing of my Grandparents. But most of all, I am grateful for the fact God has and does carry us through the wild tides and “stormy days at the beach” we all experience in the course of living. I’m amazed at how He has carried me, carried my parents, carried my grandparents and will even carry Titus in the days ahead; just like the poem “Footprints” talks about. Through the easy, low stress strolls along the beach, like my plane ride to San Diego with a five month-old; or the crazy-mad-house, stress filled nightmare of the high tides in life, like dark addictions, family heart-ache or health problems – God walks with, beside and occasionally carries us (like I carried Titus); arms and legs wide, drool everywhere as we gum whatever we get our hands on.
To be very clear, in the poem “Footprints” - its inspiration and grasp on Truth is the ultimate issue. The same is true for all art or works man creates. We must be a people who think critically and test all things; working to always recognize the diamond from the garbage. Finally here’s my encouragement: Like me, like these young people, we must be careful not to scoff at artistic but wise, truthful, Godly and inspired source material. Obviously we must also be discerning! But I have to be honest; another non-flowery look at “Footprints” blasted me with fresh and inspirational meaning this week. I finally got over my apathy as well as my scowl inducing cynicism, looked past the frame and the matting I remember from my younger days, and heard God’s voice. Want to know what I heard?
Listen. Listen really closely. Like the introduction I made between Titus and my grandparents a couple days ago in San Diego, can’t you hear Jesus proudly declaring this introduction; “I gave my life as the perfect God-man, because of your sin, to pave the way for the possibility of this very moment! Scott Wilson Box, let me introduce you to your True Father, God almighty. He’s always been there for you and He always will be…”
“…Oh, and Scott, ‘during your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.'”
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