Driving Through the Fog

The thing about living in the Blue Ridge Mountains is that sometimes I have an awesome view out my bedroom window, but other days, it’s not even worth opening the blinds. Driving through fog is not the most fun thing in the world. In fact, it’s a little disconcerting to not be able to see beyond the narrow stretch of road you’re on.

While driving into town awhile back, I had the surreal experience of being able to see nothing but bare branches poking through the fog alongside the road and realizing, “There’s a mountain over there. I know there’s a mountain, because I’ve seen it, but if I didn’t already know…”

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I feel like driving through the fog is such an accurate portrayal of my spiritual life. So many times when I can’t see beyond my circumstances, I find myself saying, “God is faithful. I know He’s faithful because He’s proved Himself before, but if I didn’t know…”

Because I can’t always see Him at work in my life. I don’t always know what He’s doing in the midst of the messes. I don’t know how to cope in the fog.

But sometimes… sometimes…

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of Him, rising up through the fog of my life. And even if it’s just for a moment before I descend into the valley again, I’m comforted.

Even though I can’t always see Him, even though I don’t know what exactly He’s doing, I know that He’s there. I know that He’s working. I know that He is faithful—forever faithful.

He has been so good to me, so real to me, ever-present when I need Him most.

And so I continue through the fog, unsure of what lies before me, but certain of the One who paves my way.

forever faithful

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