FOOTPRINTS

As I stepped out of the shower this evening, and walked out of the bathroom into my bedroom, I looked behind me, and noticed I’d left two wet footprints on the rug. 

Two obvious indentations. Heels, insteps and toes.

And then it struck me. As the rug dries, the pile will regain its original shape, and my footprints will be disappear; almost as quickly as I laid them down. 

I don’t mind telling you that the concept of disappearing footprints scares me to death. 

Oh, I don’t mean the ones I left on my bathroom rug, or on one of our Florida beaches; which have such a short ‘shelf life.’

No, I’m referring to my proverbial footprints; indentations in the sand of life which we are all busy leaving behind us. Our character. Our reputations. Our influence. 

The memories we are currently weaving into the minds and souls of those whom God has chosen for us to impact. That which we bequeath to those who have pledged to take up our mantle, and wrap it around their shoulders.

I am a man taken up with destiny. Thus, the realization that my figurative footprints might disappear ‘scares me to death.’ For you see, I want to be remembered. Well, to be sure it’s much less important that I be remembered, as it is that all the time and effort I have expended be replicated in the lives of those with whom I have to do. 

There’s a two word admonition in the third chapter of the New Testament Book of Philippians.

“Copy me.”

I realize that my visitation on this planet is time-limited. The 2/3 of a century which God has granted me thus far is a gift. And I think He expects me to honor that gift by giving the gift of my life to others; which if God allows, I will continue to do.

I am a pastoral counselor and a mentor. In recent years I have begun to enjoy the latter role more than the former. Perhaps because I have been given the opportunity to act as a role model for potential people of excellence, and to leave my footprints behind for them to follow.

Speaking of gifts, one of my interns once encouraged me with a statement which left me almost speechless.

“Dr. Bill, I don’t want to disappoint you. I’ll go for you when you can no longer go. I’ll speak for you when you can no longer speak. I’ll reach, teach and keep souls in your name long after you have gone on to your reward.”

My students truly are messages to a time that I will never see, and with such worthy individuals as this, I am increasingly convinced that my footprints will be visible for some time to come. 

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 46. Copyright pending

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