Was Then That I Carried You
By Jesus Christ
One night, Jim, you had a dream.
You dreamed you were walking along the beach with Me.
Across the sky flashed
scenes from your life. For each scene, you noticed two
sets of footprints in the sand; one belonging to you,
and the other to Me. When the last scene of your life
flashed before you, you looked back at the footprints
in the sand. You noticed that many times along the path
of your life there was only one set of footprints. You
also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and
saddest times in your life. This bothered you, and you
questioned Me about it. "Lord, you said that once
I decided to follow you, you would walk with me all the
way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome
times in my life, there is only one set of footprints.
I don't understand why when I needed you most you would
leave me." I replied, "My precious, precious
child. I love you and I would never leave you. During
your times of trial and suffering, when you see only
one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."
Bullshit, Jesus, Those Are Obviously My Footprints!
By Jim Steinhauer
Sorry to have to break it to you, Jesus, but those are
obviously my footprints.
Look closely. See how those footprints have that wavy
tread pattern on the bottom, just like my docksiders?
If they were yours, they'd make a sandal mark, like the
footprints next to mine a little farther up the beach
when I was going through better times.
See the footprints at the time of my divorce? You'll
notice that the sandaled footprints drift off from the
docksider ones. They lead to that picnic bench over there,
the one with the cigarette butts scattered all over.
It appears that in my darkest hour, instead of carrying
me, you sat on a stump and had a couple of smokes. Real
helpful, Jesus. Real helpful.
Sure, the sandal footprints came back when I got that
big job promotion, but right at the point where my son
Tommy died, they veer off again. Actually, now that I
look again, it seems like there's an unusually large
distance between each of the sandal-wearer's footprints
around the time of my son's death, as if the person were
actually running away.
I'm sorry, Jesus, but your whole story about carrying
me during my worst moments just doesn't gibe with the
facts. Besides, you'd certainly think a person would
remember being carried by the Son of God, right? That's
a pretty memorable thing, wouldn't you say? Well, either
I've got amnesia, or you're a liar, because I don't recall
ever being toted around by the Messiah. The only thing
I do remember about my worst moments on the path of life
is the horrible feeling of plodding along the cold sand
all alone while icy rain fell in sheets and chill winds
So thanks, Jesus. Thanks a bunch. You were really there
for me when things got tough. Asshole.