The representative who visited us was a pleasant, unassuming man who introduced himself as Richard. After he had completed his survey, we sat together in the living room, examining the brochure and discussing prices. It was then that I explained the reason for this purchase: we had recently lost our daughter and wanted a quiet place to sit and meditate, surrounded by peace and nature.
Richard had seen her pictures and the sympathy cards covering the dining table. He asked if I was a believer, and when I said yes, he offered to pray for me. I gladly accepted.
In his prayer, Richard referred to the well-known story “Footprints,” in which life is depicted as a journey over sand dunes. Most of the time there are two sets of footprints, side by side, but occasionally there is only one. The second set of footprints represents Jesus walking beside us. When there is only one set, it is Jesus’, not ours. Those are the times when the going is so difficult that He carries us.
This reminder of God’s intimate concern and care in our darkest hours brought me tremendous comfort. The fabric of my life had been ripped apart by this tragedy, and for a long while I wasn’t able to keep up my habitual spiritual routines. In fact, I could barely speak with Jesus during those agonizing early months of bereavement; my grief wasn’t something I could put into words. When I didn’t know if I could take another step, He carried me.
I can’t say that I have always felt myself being carried, but when I look around, I see the signs—like His sending a stranger to pray for me.
* * *
I will be your God throughout your lifetime—until your hair is white with age. I made you, and I will care for you. I will carry you along and save you. —Isaiah 46:4 NLT