reminds me of the old poem footprints in the sand. I used to have it hanging in my kitchen as a reminder.
do you remember that one?
footprints in the sand
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with
the Lord. Scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In
each, I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were
two sets of footprints; other times there was only one.
During the low periods of my life I could see only one set of
footprints, so I said, "You promised me, Lord, that you would
walk with me always. Why, when I have needed you most,
have you not been there for me?"
The Lord replied, "The times when you have seen only one set
of footprints, my child, is when I carried you."
Thank you for sharing “Footprints in the Sand.” While it’s not Scripture, it reflects something deeply biblical: when we are at our weakest, it is the Lord who carries us. That reminder is especially meaningful in my life.
For a long time, I misunderstood God’s promise in 1 Corinthians 10:13 (ESV), thinking it meant He wouldn’t allow more hardship than I could handle. But that verse actually speaks of temptation—assuring us that God is faithful, that He will not allow us to be tempted beyond our ability, and that He will always provide a way of escape so that we can endure. It’s not a promise that life’s burdens will be bearable on our own—but that God will preserve us from falling under the weight of sin.
Life with chronic illness has made this distinction experientially clear. Some burdens are simply too much for me. I know intimately the toll it takes, and I’ve mourned the loss of two (support group) friends with the same condition who ended their lives. Some trials are, humanly speaking, unbearable in ourselves.
Yet in the midst of my own weakness, I’ve come to treasure the truth Paul shares in 2 Corinthians 4:7 (ESV)—that “we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” I am not the source of endurance; God is. When I falter, when I feel like I will fall, I hold to the psalmist’s assurance: “though he fall, he shall not be cast headlong, for the Lord upholds his hand” (Psalm 37:24, ESV).
This isn’t triumphalism; it’s trust. I don’t claim that I’m strong enough—but I know the One who is. That’s why Paul could say, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13, ESV). That verse isn’t about personal empowerment—it’s about Christ’s sufficiency in our utter dependence.
I often think of Stephen in his final moments. As he faced martyrdom, Scripture says he was full of the Holy Spirit and saw the glory of God, with Jesus standing at His right hand (Acts 7:55–56, ESV). Though that was a unique and extraordinary event, it reminds us that God does not abandon His children in suffering. He gives what is needed—not escape from trial, but endurance through it, by His Spirit.
Jesus Himself acknowledged the tension we live in when He said, “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matthew 26:41, ESV). And yet, He does not leave us to the weakness of the flesh. Through His Spirit, through the Word, through prayer—all things Reformed tradition rightly calls a means of Grace—He strengthens and anchors us.
So while the language of Footprints may be poetic, its core truth is real: the Lord carries us when we cannot walk. Not always in ways we feel, but always in accordance with His promises. When we turn to Him and immerse ourselves in prayer and His Word, He doesn’t simply offer relief—He gives Himself.
Thank you again for your kind note and for reminding me of these truths. May the Lord continue to uphold us both, and may we learn more and more to trust in His strength and not our own.
Soli Deo Gloria
Hazelelponi