Yesterday wasn’t the most beautiful day the East Coast has ever seen. Cold, rainy and windy, it was the perfect day for mourning. As I drove up the highway to Maryland on the way to my Great Uncle Jack’s viewing, I spent about an hour stuck in the fog behind a few 18-wheeler trucks. In the fog, it’s hard to see anything. It’s also hard to concentrate on anything other than just staying on the road and moving forward soundly and safely. In the fog, there is less of self, and more of just moving forward, and it is that simplicity of spirit that makes our bouts in the fog worthwhile.
Life is a lot like navigating through fog. We can’t always see where we are going, but as long as we know that we are headed in the right direction, we just need to keep moving forward and trusting that soon our vision will be restored to us. And, when the fog is lifted, we are gifted with a new appreciation for the beauty of clarity, because breaking away from fog is beautifully freeing. Give thanks for time spent in the fog because it is that part of our journey that most builds our faith and enables us to live with gratitude for our sight.