30/08/2026
❤️ FAITH, CHURCH & THE FOOTPRINTS WE LEAVE BEHIND ❤️
I wanted to touch on something a little different today, religion and faith.
Anyone who knows me knows I’m not really a religious person. I’ve never pretended to be, and I’m certainly not going to start preaching to anyone about what they should or shouldn’t believe.
But I do enjoy going to churches from time to time, different churches, different denominations. I enjoy listening to the sermons, hearing people’s stories and trying to understand what faith means to different people.
Last night I attended the Broken Hill Church Muster, where people from different religions and churches came together. One of the main reasons I wanted to attend was because a gentleman had travelled from Sydney representing Prison Ministries, and with my own history, I was genuinely interested in hearing about the work they do inside the NSW prison system.
I often ask Kel to come along to church with me, but she never wants to.
Last night, she finally explained why.
Kel told me that years ago she used to attend church every week. Her faith and her church community were a part of her life.
Then she went through a divorce.
At a time when she probably needed understanding, friendship and support the most, she felt shunned by people within the church. People who once spoke to her stopped speaking to her, and it took a very long time before some would even acknowledge her again.
That experience hurt her deeply, and somewhere along the way, Kel lost her faith in the church.
Then someone sent her the picture I’ve shared with this post — “Footprints in the Sand.”
And something about those words changed the way she looked at things.
She realised that perhaps she didn’t need to have faith in a building or in the people sitting inside it.
She simply needed faith that the Lord was still beside her.
Even when other people had turned their backs.
Even when she felt alone.
Even when she couldn't understand why she was going through what she was going through.
That conversation really made me think.
Because when it comes to God and religion, I’m still sitting on the fence.
I've seen a lot in my life. I've lived through addiction, homelessness, prison and some very dark places. I've watched drugs destroy lives, including nearly destroying my own.
I don't personally look back and say, “God saved me from addiction.”
The way I see it, maybe He put two choices in front of me.
The first was pretty bloody simple:
Keep living the way I was living — using drugs, trafficking drugs and dancing with the devil — and eventually I was going to die.
Maybe God would have taken me one way or another.
The second choice was much harder.
Walk away.
Give up the drugs. Give up the lifestyle. Stop trafficking. Accept responsibility for the damage I'd caused, rebuild my life from absolutely nothing and see where that road took me.
I chose the second road.
And my life did improve.
Not overnight. Not because of some miracle that suddenly made everything easy.
I had to do the work.
I had to make different choices. I had to change the people around me. I had to learn how to live again. I had to accept my past without allowing it to dictate my future.
And perhaps this is where faith becomes complicated for someone like me.
Did God save me?
Did He simply show me the two roads and leave the decision to me?
Was He carrying me during those darkest moments, like the footprints in this picture suggest?
I genuinely don't know.
And I'm okay admitting that.
What I do know is that I'm still here.
And today I can use the darkest chapters of my life to show another person that there is life after addiction, prison, homelessness and making terrible choices.
Maybe that's part of my purpose.
Maybe that's part of His plan.
Or maybe it's simply what happens when someone is given another chance and decides not to waste it.
I'm still working that one out.
But Kel taught me something last night that I think is worth sharing.
Don't necessarily judge faith by the actions of people.
People can disappoint you. Churches are made up of human beings, and human beings can get things wrong. Someone else's judgement or rejection doesn't necessarily have to determine your own relationship with faith.
And perhaps the greatest lesson in Footprints in the Sand isn't really about religion at all.
Maybe it's about hope.
That during those moments when we think we're completely alone, perhaps somebody — whether you call that somebody God, family, a friend or simply love — is helping carry us until we're strong enough to walk again.
I'm still sitting on the fence.
But I'm listening. I'm learning. And I'm keeping an open mind.
And considering where my life once was and where it is today, maybe that's a pretty good place to start. ❤️
Love & Respect.
Don Barron
People Helping People.
