It's a sure bet to assume that pretty much everyone reading this reflection has encountered Mary Stevenson's "Footprints in the Sand" poem. For a refresher, here's the gist:
"... for each scene he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonging to him, the other to the Lord ... he noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints ... this really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it ... the Lord replied ... when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."
But did Mary miss another "scene"?
Somewhere so far off the beaten path of life and experience, that, although there truly is "nothing new under the sun", in this moment, at this time, we are feeling that gnaw in the stomach that speaks to us, "I really don't know where I am, or perhaps even who I am - these are uncharted waters and I truly am off the map. This really is something totally new. I have no idea where to turn."
Psalm 77 captures in superb Hebraic dramatic fashion a picture of the tumult and anxiety these swirling moments of life can concoct:
"the ocean trembled deep with fear ... thunder was heard above as arrows of lightning flash about ... thunder roared like chariot wheels ... the world was made bright by lightning, and all the earth trembled."
Asaph the ancient minstrel and Levite continues in this song of communal lament:
"Your path led through the sea,
your way through the mighty waters,
though your footprints were not seen."
This summary leaves us with two possible interpretations of meaning:
The statement yet thy footprints were unseen may emphasize the fact that God himself, although present and in action to save his people, was never actually seen; it was faith and trust that made the people know that he was there. Or else, after he used the sea as a path, the deep water hid his footprints from sight (Dahood). In languages which do not use the passive, it will often be necessary to shift to the active; for example, "no one saw your footprints" or "no one could see where you passed by."
Bratcher, R. G., & Reyburn, W. D. (1991). A translator's handbook on the book of Psalms (p. 679). United Bible Societies.
However we get here - these moments of seemingly unprecedented uncertainty and fracas - we are haunted by the sense, that even though our past experience and the testimony of a great cloud of witnesses tells us there is - there will be - a way through to the other side - there are no footprints to be found. Even the imprint of the very tread of God Himself seems to have been washed away while the creeping voice of doubt taunts, "maybe He never even was here at all."
Asaph taps the disorientation of this emotion using the Hebrew: škah שׁכח
The terror and trauma of being forgotten. A falling into oblivion even to the point of being wiped from one's memory entirely.
Ah. Even Jesus found himself here toiling under the uncertainty and stress of Gethsemane. I know there's a way ahead, but why through here? I have not been this way before - into this dark alley poignant with death's stench and its suffocating effects. Is there another way? I cannot see it - there are no footprints here - yet I lean into Your way Father. I will trust.
And then that shocking scream from the throat of the Messiah - "why am I forsaken?" Forgotten. Alone. Abandoned.
škah שׁכח
Your footprints are not to be seen.
As Jesus models to us - the path to resurrection power and life is through the sea - through the mighty waters. To step forward here is to embrace a grace of faith that requires a total dependance - a complete surrender - a resolute trust that resists the need for the certainty that makes us vulnerable to conspiracy theories and a legalistic clutching. To trust that, as John Wimber used to say, "the way in is the way on."
Not my will - my way - Father. Yours be done.
"In repentance and rest is your salvation,
in quietness and trust is your strength (NIV) -
Your salvation requires you to turn back to me
and stop your silly efforts to save yourselves.
Your strength will come from settling down
in complete dependence on me—
The very thing
you've been unwilling to do." (MSG)
(Isaiah 30:15)
Particularly in matters of faith and spiritual formation, at times there is really no way to 'track God' no matter how astute our theology, our therapy and our disciplines are. There is a way, although to our chagrin often it is through the mighty waters that seem to threaten our very existence and wipe away all trace of anyone ever having been here, yet as hard as we try to discover them, there are no footprints to be seen.
We truly are off the map.
But we are not alone.
Asaph concludes:
"You led Your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron."
There is a Good Shepherd.
At times His steps are not to be followed, imprinted in the path before us. Nor, does He simply scoop us up in His arms and carry us leaving only His footprints behind. He walks beside. Achingly. Tenderly. In solidarity and strength. Step. By. Step.
Through. With. Alongside.
And no just with you. Not just with me. A flock. Together. The Good Shepherd holding the hand of trusted and trusting under shepherds who lean in and on Jesus and the Way. And together we will make it through.
Selah.
Shalom.
David
