Almost everyone has heard “The Footprints in the Sand” poem. The poem is about a person who has a dream that he’s walking along the beach with the Lord. In the sky he can see images from his life as well as two sets of footprints in the sand. He notices that during the lowest times in his life, there is only one set of footprints. He reminds God that he promised to walk with him always, and asks him why he wasn’t there during those low times. God says, “My precious child, I love you and would never leave you during your trials and testings. When you only saw one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”
I can think of several moments in my life when I know I couldn’t have made it through in my own strength. Some times were way tougher than others, but thats the thing, it doesn’t matter how significant or insignificant the case may be, if I’m struggling, God still carries me. I got to thinking, what does being carried look like? Did God physically come and carry me? No. So what exactly does it mean to be carried? This is what I came up with:
When I began college, it rocked my world. Strange place, strange people, no friends, and course work that I was NOT prepared for. It was a very emotional time. I’d convinced myself that college wasn’t for me. Shortly after school started, I decided that I was going home and was never setting foot in Nacogdoches, Texas again. I called my mom daily, hourly even, crying about how horrible it was, expressing my desire to leave. She’d tell me, “you are meant to be there! You can do this. Just give it time. Wait and see how you feel by the end of the semester.” Sure enough, I met friends and started enjoying myself a little more. By the time the next semester was starting, I was ready to go back. God carrying me looked like an encouraging mother who never doubted my ability to be a college girl. Here I am almost 8 years later, a two-time college graduate. I was carried.
When my great-grandmother passed away, it broke my heart. The news of her passing literally swept me off of my feet. She lived with us, and being in the house without her there was a huge adjustment. She passed away just before my graduation from SFA. The only thing missing from that day was her… God carried me through that with family to lean on who knew EXACTLY how I felt, friends who understood what I was going through, who would cry with me, and share hilarious Moby stories with me (like a cake that magically ended up on the floor) – thank you Tasha, and remind me how lucky I was to have her for as long as I did. I was carried.
When my Nana passed away, I lost a part of me. I spent a lot of my childhood with her, she nurtured me, encouraged me, prayed for me, spied on me (right Gina?), introduced me to coffee in my toddler days, gave the best hugs, and the best kisses. A world with out her is one I’m unfamiliar with. I couldn’t imagine life without her, now I live it… It’s still a struggle now, but God has carried me through by reminding me that I still have a perfect and very loving grandmother, giving me people to lift me up when I’m falling apart (thank you Mom, Korey, & Gina), filling my spirit with so many good memories, and cherishing those last days that I got to spend with her. I would drive every single mile all over again, and enjoy every single minute I woke up during the night to sit with her when she was hurting. I would do it without hesitation. I was and am being carried.
For me, this is what being carried looks like. I acknowledge that God carried me through these life changing, earth shattering moments. So surely, he’ll carry me through anything.