I’m freezing. My jacket drips the moisture it has collected from the air. This fog is too thick.
My lantern lights the path before me, but only two or three feet. So slow is my pace, steady are my steps.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
One foot in front of the other. Loose rocks fall behind me with each step.
I must be nearing the top.
Where is my Father? I know He is here, but I can’t see Him. He used to feel so close. When the skies are blue, it’s easier to see Him through nature. Through His creation. But with this weather. With this uphill climb that seems to last forever, it’s hard to remember the last mountaintop. Or even the last valley.
At least in the valley, I could see.
At least in the valley, I had vegetation to feed me.
At least in the valley, I could feel Him walking closer than ever. I could hear His voice more clearly.
But now just silence and confusion. Wasn’t He supposed to give me peace, not confusion? I hear He is this Prince of Peace, yet here I am, lost in a dark cloud with no signs of respite.
I cast all my cares on You, Father. Truly. I cannot bear them anymore. Feels like I’m trying to lug boulders in my backpack. Yet I know it’s only my sleeping gear.
I desire to know You, and yet You hide from me?! Well, I am drawing near and I don’t find You anywhere! Fill me with Your truth. Find me in this fog.
Chaos. I feel chaos. I hear nothing. I lack Your peace and voice. I am in chaos. I trust You. I don’t feel You, but I know You are here. I know You are near although white fog fills my sight in every direction.
I do not understand, but I will walk on.
Up ahead of me the white starts to change color. I see a darkness through the white, then dark blue.
My head pops out of the fog. Now seeing all around me clearly, I am in awe. It looks almost like a giant field, with clouds so thick I want to run and swim through them.
After a long gaze, I turn around to keep walking upward. But there is no more upward to walk. I am at the peak of my mountain. In the distance, the sky turns different colors as the sun disappears behind what looks like never-ending hills. As far as the eye can see, this fog field covers the mountain range like a blanket.
I have crested another mountaintop. Actually, I should say WE have crested another mountaintop. I know, my Father has been with me the whole way through.
The path now dips, continuing right back into the fog.
I hear my Father say, “Walk on.”
I look left: clear skies. I look right: more clear skies. I don’t bother to look behind me. I am thankful for it and will remember its lessons, but I’m done longingly looking back. It only brings emptiness and regret.
I love these mountaintops. I can see for miles. It’s gloriously beautiful. But I can’t camp here. I need food. No fruit grows on top of these high hills. It’s far too windy, rocky, and cold. So I must continue on the path, down into the valley.
I take my first step down the peak. My lantern flickers, but it has not failed me yet. Before I enter the fog field, I take one last look and take a deep breath.
Before me stands the fog field. To be honest, it’s hard to get used to walking through this weather. On those blinding days or weeks, I can choose to be afraid of the weather and hunker down, or take a risk and get used to being in the cloud.
There will be times that I will doubt the direction I am being led. Only seeing enough to take another step.
But I must continue. The Path leads me to the Way, and I only want to be on the Path.
I’ve wandered off the Path before, but only a couple of times…
Okay, I’ve wandered off it often. Trust me, it’s always the wrong decision. Even when I actually find another “path,” I know it’s wrong. I know it leads to death and destruction. A temporary pleasure.
It might look amazing. Nice and wide, and even clear skies. Smooth enough to walk barefoot on.
Not so with the Path. It gets rocky. It gets narrow. Super narrow. Narrow enough where I think, “I’m still on the Path, right?! How the heck do people get through this part?!” But it leads to life. Not just eternal life, but abundant life right now.
Sometimes I’ll feel lost on the Path, then I’ll see a thread from someone’s shirt who has gone before me, or I see written on a boulder with charcoal, KEEP GOING.
“Fear not, be strong and take courage.” I hear my Father say.
I step into the fog.
Down we go. Doubt will come. Silence will come. Troubles and trials will come. But I know my Father is there.
My friend, walk into that fog field. It’s so worth it. He’s so worth it.
