Deep in the Jordanian dessert we stopped under a huge cliff. Our guided pointed to a dark fissure dividing the wall. He told us we should walk to the slot canyon and walk up into it. We would find water and petroglyphs. I loved this guide. He did not handhold, but got us near to things and encouraged us to go exploring on our own.
We headed through the sand and the cliff grew and grew until it blotted out the sun. The temperature dropped and our eyes struggled to see in the shadows. We climbed a few steps carved into the rocks and then started to walk up this narrow path. Years of sporadic rains have polished it sculpture smooth. The further back we went the harder it was to keep out of the water. Here we were in the desert and water was all around us. From fifty yards away, there would be no way to know any water was available. This is how the Bedouins lived in that land, they knew the secrets. Eventually we reach a cliff we could not climb and had to turn around and head back to the truck.
As we started back out our eyes had adjusted to the dim light. We began to see figures carved into the rocks. From time out of mind these figures greeted us. My favorite was the animals, but the human figures were also engaging. Then I saw the two feet. I was disgusted. I assumed they were the work of vandals. I was wrong. They were old, very old--thousands of years old.
I was doing some reading upon my return about Gilgal. The camp of the Israelites after crossing the Jordan. The most recent excavations have discovered several camp areas. They are shaped like a foot. It was a not too subtle way of saying, "I am here." The foot carved in the wall and the one shaped by rock walls testify to the actual presence of individuals and their claim that the want to make an imprint on the world-they want to make a difference.
Whereever you are, put your foot down and make a difference.