Buttprints in the Sand

Who really wrote the "Footprints" poem? You know, the one shared around the world on posters, plaques, and coffee mugs. The one about the single set of footprints in the sand where Jesus carried us in our darkest moments.

According to the Washington Post last Sunday, three contenders are duking it out for the claim of authorship.

It got me to thinking about an updated version of the famous poem. Though it was sent to me long ago as an anonymous work, I'm thinking about being the first to file a copyright for it. It's lovingly entitled, "Buttprints in the Sand," and at various moments in my life I've need its truth as much as "Footprints in the Sand."
One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of my precious Lord,
But mine were not along the shore.

But then some strange prints appeared,
And I asked the Lord, "What have we here?"
Those prints are large and round and neat,
"But Lord, they are too big for feet."

"My child," He said in somber tones,
"For miles I carried you along.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made me wait."

"You disobeyed, you would not grow,
The walk of faith, you would not know,
So to discipline, I said, "Time's up!"
And there I dropped you on your butt."

And so in life, there comes a time,
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their butt prints in the sand.