But then one day I heard Monsignor DeBlanc tell us a very different footprints story. I am sure I'm butchering his finely woven tale, but it involved how two men were following Jesus along the beach.
One man struggled, he walked slowly while carefully placing his foot in the sand-outlined path of Jesus. But he could never quite line up his foot with the prints. The other man ran behind Jesus with joy, and his feet so perfectly fit into every print that Jesus left on the beach, without even trying. It left me perplexed as a little girl. I imagine that I didn't listen to what Monsignor said after he told the story. I'm sure I got stuck on wondering why on earth the man who so carefully tried to follow Jesus just couldn't line things up. I knew that I tried really hard to follow Jesus, so I most certainly must be that first man, and it really really bothered me. I diligently tried to figure it out on my own. For probably thirty years.
I assumed that maybe that the first man wasn't fit to walk in the footsteps of Jesus, that perhaps Jesus was the only one who could walk that path. Then I wondered why on earth the joyful man could just run and fit so perfectly into the way of Jesus. Every time I ever tried to do something quickly, it surely failed. Well, except those stellar mama moments when I am just on my game. But I haven't seen many of those in quite some time, again, I digress.
In my adult life, I was still thinking about that story. It never left me. As I walked through my journey, I always worried about that poor man, trying to hard to line things up, and absolutely failing. I fell into his same path. I struggled internally, and I wondered why things were so difficult. I could completely relate to his frustration.
But one glorious day, I just got the story. It was one of my most favorite eureka moments yet. And I had to figure it out on my own. I wasn't paying full attention when I heard it, and even if I was, I don't know if it would have been something that would sink in until I lived the path of the first man.
I got trapped in humanity and the desires of the mortal heart. And of course, they were not all bad, there is some super great stuff out there. A simple sunrise is one of them, and I've seen my blessed share when rocking babies in the wee morning hours. So certainly, God gave me plenty of graces along the way.
But I didn't always put God first.
I thought lots of other things were just as important, so fitting God into my life was just something else on the calendar. Sunday mass. Check. Sunday mass - well, my family is in town. No check. Sunday mass, we're traveling. No check. Sunday mass - we had a late night, no check. I was robbing all of us by taking the wayside, and trying to fit those big God moments into my daily life.
Well, when I could.
When you raise a family, it's a lot. If I would have landed at this stage of motherhood first, well, Lord help us all! But in the last few years, I suppose aging takes its toll on a mind. Losing a slew of close people in your life really puts things into a perspective I've sortof understood, but not really.
So my calendar changed. I was no longer fitting God into my life.
I was opening my life to God.
I decided that He is, and should be, first in everything. I don't know why I had to make this decision. It should never have been a question. I've been a pretty decent person my whole life, and Lord, I've loved me some Jesus. I don't even know if it was a decision, I'd probably say it was more of an awakening within me. An aha moment of truly, fully, deeply realizing what is beyond important.
And I finally understand the footsteps story. When I decided that I would joyfully follow Him, well, those footsteps need not such careful attention. They have become a path that is clear and certain, and so incredibly easy to follow.
And the joy it has brought is beyond measure.
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