Your path led through the sea, Your way through the mighty waters, though Your footprints were not seen. -Psalm 77:19
What part of this did You say would be easy?
You didn’t say.
You never guaranteed safe passage through this voyage of life. Never said we wouldn’t struggle, that we’d never be thrown curves in a series of fastballs. You said we would have troubles in this life. But You also said to take heart and not be afraid, because You have taken care of all things terrifying.
And that You would be with us every length of the way. Even when Your footprints are not seen.
You keep coaxing us out of the boat, to take a leg and swing it over the side to stand on water. To take one step into the sea, and then another.
So we do. Warily, confidently, we lift our eyes to the light a thousand yards away. We move as if our feet were touching pavement.
Then we sneak a glance over our shoulder and realize how far from the boat we are. And how far off You still seem to be. Suddenly, the ground beneath us shivers, and we find ourselves sinking. How fast our faith has faltered. How easily we sink beneath the surface.
We are weighed down, but You arrive where we have fallen and reach beneath the surface to grab our arm and anchor us up. You brush off our bruises and hold us as we begin to understand the need to keep straining for the shore. You hand us a life vest in case we slip again, and guide us once more through the waves. And we want to please You, so we keep moving.
You never guaranteed clarity in this murky world. You never stretched the winding streets before us into straight passage. You only warned us that the air would be full of flying arrows aimed at our heart. But You gave us a shield and a strength to navigate and protect us once we hit the open road.
And, along the trail, lingering beside us, a pair of footprints follows, closely entwined with our own.