Footprints of a God Follower

I love walking on the beach in the morning, before the crowd and the noise cover the sand. I love to look down and see the evidence that there were others before me. Patterns of movement grace the shore with trails of life.

The three pronged mark of birds looking for a breakfast snack. The four rounded impressions of dogs frolicking in the sand and foam. A sand crab leaves a scalloped trail as it seeks refuge in the wet earth. A runner’s toes press deep and the prints are far between.

All of life leaves a mark. It is the residual of being. It is the evidence of existence.

We live in a world that reeks of humanistic fallout. The trash of human existence clouds the water of our lives with the dross of self absorption. People don’t care that their actions affect others. Litter is the least of the human waste. Words, actions, and emotions that disregard others cause more damage to mankind than any landfill ever could.

Too many times, the footprints of life are more like muddy shoeprints on a white carpet. Somehow that trend needs to be reversed. Our prints should leave a positive residual on an ugly world.

I think the footprints of a God follower should be as unique as a snowflake, but as lasting as etchings in granite.

I just got done watching a video(003 Trees) by Rob Bell about purpose in life. As he is teaching, he is standing on a sidewalk in a bad part of the neighborhood. He talks about God and humanity while digging some holes. He reflects on God’s original design for us as he plants two trees. When he finishes his talk about life between two trees, the garden and the new earth, he gets in his truck and drives off.

As I sat there contemplating the point of his lesson, I kept looking at the two trees. His talk made me a better man and the trees made the street a prettier place. Rob left a God follower footprint. All of our trails should be so adorned.

I want my footprints to be like fertilizer to grass, rain to the desert and food to the Haitian. People say they want to “leave their mark” on society. A slap in the face leaves a mark. A conquering King can leave a statue as a mark. I want the kind of mark that bares no name, but carries the fingerprints of God. I don’t want a building named after me; I want a community changed for the better because I lived there.

A jet flew over the other day in the upper stratosphere. Its trail left a definitive mark in the sky. As time passed the streaks blurred and the sun caught the cascading lines like a prism and reflected a beautiful rainbow of color and light. I don’t know what airline left the mark, but it sure made the sunset better.

May our lives be catalysts for rainbows, sunsets and seascapes in the lives of people. And may our footprints lead people on a path toward God.