A former teacher of mine once used driving as a metaphor for our walk with Christ. In the first part of his example, he painted a scene of a drive through Kansas. The flat open land makes it possible to see for miles in every direction, a drivers dream. This is not at all what it’s like to walk through life with Christ. You don’t get to see on and on, knowing miles ahead what’s coming. He continued explaining that instead, life with Christ is more like driving under the conditions of heavy rain. You only get to see so many feet in front of you, having to closely follow the white or yellow lines with the road, giving all your attention to it.
For a while, I agreed with my teacher’s picture. But what happens when you seem unable to see anything? What are you supposed to do when you feel directionless, still, like you’re going nowhere? Instead of heavy rain, you find yourself in a heavy fog with zero visibility, what then?
These are the conditions my parents and I found ourselves in last February whilst on a road trip. We had just visited my brother and his young family in California to celebrate his son’s first birthday. Making our way East heading back home to Texas, we attempted to get ahead of an oncoming storm of winter weather. Having gotten into Colorado, we hit some of the storm while still a few hours from our intended destination. In the winding roads of the mountains, among the towering trees, we came into the heaviest densest fog I’ve ever experienced. Barely able to see the car next to you let alone the road ahead, traffic came to a near standstill. Cars crept along in caution. Attempting to use one’s headlights proved unhelpful. Turning them on didn’t have the desired effect of breaking through the fog, but instead merely illuminated the cloud in front of you.
For miles all anyone could do was creep along, hoping that a break in the fog would be just around the next turn or the next. A clearing finally gave way a bit once we hit the outskirts of Denver. The city lights doing the work headlights couldn’t. But it was growing darker as the hour grew late. We made a pit stop, and got back on the road and into the misty fog again. Though it grew darker and colder, we grew closer and closer to our destination. Through the fog and darkness, we finally made it.
I remember that time vividly, not only because it was just a few months ago, but because it perfectly parallels my spiritual life for about the past year.
For most of the year of being back in Houston, I’ve found myself in a spiritual fog, unable to see, unable to move. Frustrated at having no idea where the road I’m on leads. Impatient with how slow I feel I’m going, feeling like I’m not going anywhere. Needing a light to break through but nothing being strong enough. And despite small progress, the ever passing time just making everything get darker still. Hoping for a clearing that has yet to appear.
When you’re in such a place all you can see is the fog. Unable to see anything else around you, unable to see beyond the fog, the fog itself becomes all you can focus on. Thoughts of wanting it to clear, and when will that finally happen, consume you. Frustration and hopelessness grow with each passing moment, the longer you’re in the fog the worse it gets. No matter where you look, in every direction, all there seems to be is fog.
That is where I’ve been. That is where I am.
And yet, as I compare that trip with my parents to where I’m at spiritually now, I can’t ignore where I’m at physically. I’m home because we made it through the fog. Eventually, the fog dissipated and gave way to clear roads and sunny skies. The fog only lasted for so long.
In the literal thick of it, when you’re immersed in it, time spent there seems long and slow moving. You have no idea where to go, and all you want is to be out of it.
I don’t write this from a place of clear roads and sunny skies. Am I still in my fog? That’s a big fat “Yes!” “But God, [possibly the most powerful phrase in the Bible] being rich in mercy” will see you and me through. Take your eyes off of the fog, and put them on God. It will take time, and it will be hard and painful, but like sunlight breaking through the fog, you will be able to see beyond where you are and see God again for who He truly is. He is the only one who can see the view from above the storm, He’s the only one who knows where your road leads and it does lead somewhere, and wherever it leads He stands there waiting.
Be reminded, of life beyond the fog. Who knows, maybe a clearing is just around the next turn.
Thanks for walking through this with me, and I hope to see you again on another Christian Journey.
Blessings.
Christian Journeys 