Footprints

Our culture, in the past few years, has been introduced to a new term, Carbon Footprint.  By definition, "A carbon footprint is a measure of the impact our activities have on the environment, and in particular climate change"  ...meaning, what we do matters.  Randy understands this concept very well, especially in the context of stewardship of the land he has been entrusted to cultivate and produce crops on year after year.  Much of the success of crop production requires careful attention to how we deliberately tend to the great responsibility of environmentally prudent practices that 'pay it forward' to generations to come.

This past week, however, I considered another type of recent phenomenon...a digital footprint.  I would loosely describe this as our impact and presence in the databases worldwide, both virtual and actual.  Late last week two envelopes from our local community college arrived in the mail, addressed to Greg.  One envelope confirmed his enrollment in a workshop...the other contained an invoice for that class.

We have occasionally received mail addressed to Greg these past eight and a half years, however it has been mainly credit card applications or colleges and trade schools...junk mail.  These envelopes were different.  They were expecting a person to show up at class, and also to pay for the class.  It was emotional to receive the mail...wishing for a selfish minute that somehow it could be possible...that Greg were here to take a class once again.  Then my emotions changed to concern that maybe his identity had been stolen; one of the true disadvantages to a digital footprint.  A few phone calls later we were assured that Greg's digital footprint would not reappear in the active files, but would remain frozen in time with an ending date of January 17, 2003.

I remember the first time I actually saw Greg's footprint, the above ink impression on the back of the hospital birth certificate.  It does not seem so long ago that I held him and marveled at how tiny, yet perfect his feet were, and how sweet he smelled as I held him close.  And I remember the scripture that I read from my hospital bed shortly after the birth of Greg and Steve:

For you created my inmost being;
   you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
   your works are wonderful,
   I know that full well.
 My frame was not hidden from you
   when I was made in the secret place,
   when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
   all the days ordained for me were written in your book
   before one of them came to be.             

Psalm 139:13-16

This passage of scripture that caused me to marvel at the beauty of our newborn sons later became scripture that provided comfort in the midst of the mystery of Greg's sudden death and Steve's ongoing journey through traumatic brain injury.  I know that God is ultimately sovereign and present in all the passages of life.  I am so very thankful that Greg's eternal footprint is what matters most.  He is at home with the Lord because of the redemptive plan of God and His great love and grace for His own.