Butt Prints

Many have heard the poem Footprints in the Sand… 

It was popular in the 1970’s,…and virtually every church I have been has a copy of it somewhere.

It tells the story of a man, who had a dream and saw footprints at the beach.

Confused as to why there was a time when there was only one set, Jesus tells him it is when he carried him during times of trouble.

I heard a recent change to this poem.  Let me share it with all of you now:


One night I had a wonderous dream,

A set of footprints on the sand were seen.

The foot prints of my precious Lord,

Yet mine were not along the shore.


But the a stranger print appears,

I ask the Lord, “What have I here?”

This print is large, round and neat,..but much to big for a pair of feet.


“My Child”, He said in somber tone.

For miles I carried you all alone.

I challenged you to seek my face,

To take up your cross,

To walk in Grace.


 You disobeyed you would not grow,…

You would not stand against the flow.

Your neck grew stiff,

Your voice was mumm.


So there is where I dropped you on your bum.


Because in life there comes a time,

When one must fight, when one must climb.

When one must rise, when one must stand,

Or leave their bum prints in the stand.


There are many of us that need the reminder found in this poem.  

We are certainly carried from time to time, but if we want change…

if we want to meet our goals… if we want to make a difference…. 

We must rise.

A Poem for Mother’s Day

(Mother’s Day, May 8th 2011)

The following poem has been circulating on the Internet for ages.   The author is said to be one of a half dozen different people.   In the end, it speaks to the unconditional love of motherhood in a simple and beautiful way:

The Writing on the Wall

A weary mother returned from the store,

Lugging groceries through the kitchen door.

Awaiting her arrival was her eight-year-old son,

Eager to relate what his younger brother had done.

“While I was out playing and Dad was on a call,

T.J. took his crayons and wrote on the wall!

It’s on the new paper you just hung in the den.

I told him you’d be mad at having to do it again.”

She let out a moan and furrowed her brow.

“Where is your little brother right now?”

She emptied her arms and with a purposeful stride,

She marched to his closet where he had gone to hide.

She called his full name as she entered his room.

He trembled with fear–he knew that meant doom!

For the next ten minutes, she ranted and raved

About the expensive wallpaper and how she had saved.

Lamenting all the work it would take to repair,

She condemned his actions and total lack of care.

The more she scolded, the madder she got,

Then stomped from his room, totally distraught!

She headed for the den to confirm her fears.

When she saw the wall, her eyes flooded with tears.

The message she read pierced her soul with a dart.

It said, “I love Mommy,” surrounded by a heart.

Well, the wallpaper remained, just as she found it,

With an empty picture frame hung to surround it.

A reminder to her, and indeed to all,

Take time to read the handwriting on the wall.


Truth be told, the poem is kind of corny.   Yet, as I read it I find myself sure of one thing:   Stacey would’ve framed that picture too… and she would have done it without screaming.

To all, Happy Mother’s Day,…and to Stacey:  

As a mom there is none that even remotely comes close, and in all you do for our girls,…you constantly remind me of the type of father I long to be.

 Annie, Sophie, and I are incredibly blessed.   

 All our love,

The three of us.

  • Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

    Join 1,670 other followers

  • Menu

  • Archives

  • Bloggers - Meet Millions of Bloggers
%d bloggers like this: