I have spent many a foggy morning in the North Carolina mountains waiting, searching for the Lord. How could I possibly find answers in this cloud? Madeleine L’Engle writes that God is sometimes most easily found in the cloud, just as the Israelites were led by a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.
After months in the foggy cloud, her words appear to be true. Sitting in the still, in the unknown of life, waiting for Lord; that is where I have found him.
It seems counter-intuitive, finding in fog. How are we to find when we cannot see?
As is life with God, counter-intuitive almost all the time. The poor inherit, the humble are exalted, the weak are made strong, the lost are redeemed
and the fog reveals.
What is it about the fog that brings clarity? In the fog, I have no way of figuring my own way, plotting my own trail. The fog puts a film over all my bearing points and I can no longer gauge things by myself and off of what I think I know.
I remember driving with my dad on the Blue Ridge parkway late one night. We came upon fog that was so thick, we could not see a foot in front of the car. My dad had to slow the car to a crawl and follow the yellow dotted line with precision. He joked that if the yellow line were drawn off the side of the mountain, we would find ourselves following it to our death.
I think that is how it is with the Lord in the fog. I am forced to slow to a crawl and follow the yellow dotted line drawn set before me by the Lord, unaware of where it leads, trusting in the author of the story.
The fog is comforting because it limits my options, but it can be terrifying because I am totally out of control.
I have no idea where I am going and what I am doing. I'm just trusting, minute by minute, breath by breath that the Lord will bring me out of the fog.
When my story seemed past the point of redemption, the Lord took me into a deep thick fog. I say this metaphorically and physically. I was in desperate need of a savior and the Lord took me to the North Carolina mountains, where I lived in my grandma’s cabin on the side of a forested mountain, complete with a babbling creek. There I sat in the fog and looked for the yellow dotted line, which I followed carefully.
It slowly led to my redeemer.
It was hard sitting there, waiting in the fog. But scripture say that those who wait on the Lord will renew their strength. They will mount up on wings like eagles, run and not grow weary, walk and not faint.
I waited in the fog and the Lord renewed my strength and mounted me on the wings of redemption so that I would run and not grow weary, walk and not faint ( Isaiah 40:28-31 ).
Waiting, searching for a redeemer, I looked for redemption in the fog. That is what life is all about, finding redemption. I searched for a redeemer within myself and that was a scary road, becoming the savior of my own soul, my own last hope. Letting go is hard and so is searching for something that is lasting and true.