I remember those days following our son’s choice to enlist in the Marine Corps. It was a daunting time, filled with pride and a bit of fear sprinkled in.
I was proud of my son’s decision to serve, but in the back of my mind lay a fog of fear about what that service might demand from him.
Over the next few months, as our son began his many months of training, I settled more and more into a sense of pride and excitement. He was following his dream and doing it well.
Then came his first of two deployments. Those were difficult times, and that knot of fear unwound, taking over my entire world.
As I struggled to gain a measure of peace, I took a drive. We live in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and that was where I fled.
I pulled out of my driveway at dawn, and God surprised me with a glorious sunrise reflecting off a sky full of puffy clouds. Everything about it held the promise of great things to come.
But as I got closer to my goal in the mountains, those clouds that had made the sunrise so gorgeous descended and fog engulfed my car. I was forced to slow down–almost to a crawl at times–because it was so thick.
Discouragement returned, and I almost turned around. Something inside urged me on though, and I kept going; climbing higher into the peaks I loved so well.
I continued up the steep road and just yards from my goal, the clouds parted and the sun appeared, bathing me in its warmth.
I took a deep breath and the tension that had crept in from diving in such perilous conditions disappeared, and peace returned. I parked and got out to fully appreciate the magnificent view before me.
The clouds that had hung so low, obscuring my path to the top, just added depth and a new perspective to the beauty of what I saw now. I stopped as inspiration struck. I’d been so wrapped up in what was happening, I’d lost my perspective.
My drive was so much like what was happening in my life. The fog may seem like it’s going to last forever, but it’s not. Even more than that, it’s not a matter of the sun returning, it’s always there, whether I can see it or not.
I could have chosen to park, waiting for the fog to dissipate. I could have turned around and gone back. Instead, I kept going, driving up toward the sun.
I learned a valuable lesson that day. No matter what fog engulfs my circumstances, if I keep my mind focused upward, I’ll find that God hasn’t moved.
