I, on the other hand, am curled up in sweats, a thermal, scarf and eating campbell’s minestrone soup straight from the can and sipping my go-to club soda. My usual stunning Pacific ocean sunset has been replaced by a thick haze, limiting visibility to a handful of yards. From behind the glass- paneled windows, I feel as though I am trapped in a larger-than-life Ansel Adams photograph.
…
It seems right, though–to be ending the year staring at fog in front of me, while behind me in the East the mountains are perfectly clear and sunny.
This fog-in-front, clear-looking-back is probably the best way to describe how I feel about life with Jesus.
…
Back in February, we climbed Mt. Cotopaxi in Ecuador.
I was ill-prepared for winter and snow: wearing jeans, a windbreaker, a cute slouch hat, and of course, my TOMS. If you wanted to choose the perfect outfit NOT to wear for hiking a pathless, snowy, thick sinking dirt mountain, this was it.
…
Each person in our group scaled the volcano at our own pace by ourselves.
Looking towards the peak, visibility was, uhm, non-existent. Other climbers 10 yards ahead of me were completely hidden and silenced in the dense fog. It seemed endless.
But when I finally decided to pause for a breather, I turned around to see this STUNNING valley, not even remotely blurred by fog. It was a sunny, blue sky kind of day. I stood and stared at the immensity below me and got amped to keep hiking. “Hurrah! The fog is lifting!”
…Turned back around to the summit and bam–white blindness again and still no end in sight.
Since my i-pod was safely tucked in the warmth of the SUV, I was relegated to entertaining myself via gasping-for-air conversation with Jesus. And what a good talk we had.
“Hey Jesus. Uhm, right. I can’t see s*** in front of me. I’m tired. I can’t breathe. I’m freezing. My toes are numb. Awesome. This is awesome. Thanks though, Dude, because I bet if I could see where I was going, this would be beautiful.”
Beloved, trust me. Trust me to guide your every step. Hold my hand, I will lead you up this mountain.
“Right, uhm, Trust. That’s not really my thing. I’d like to be able to see what I’m doing here.”
Walk by your faith in Me.
“But you see, that exhausts me, so if you’d go ahead and clear the fog, that’d be great. I’d rather just do it myself.“
Exactly why I am only allowing you to see the next step. I want you to walk this journey following my footsteps and trusting that I will get you where I want you. Turn around, look how far I have brought you. Look at where your trust has brought you. Trust me that as we go further, my character does not change—and where we are now will be beautiful to look back upon.
(soft, gentle laughter). Beloved, I know. And that’s why there is fog. That is why for now I only show you the next step. I need to be your everything, so that in the clear you will still trust me and lean on me at all times.
“Touche, God, Touche”.*
___
So. 2011 is ending. I am moving to Georgia by the end of January. What am I doing there? Being discipled. How will I be living and making ends meet? Trusting in the Lord God with all my heart and leaning not on my own understanding.
____
2012 will be a year of deep trust. True, deep trust.
___
Addendum, in the spirit of my least favorite holiday and as a way to remove the writer’s block, by the end of writing this I have progressed from the minestrone and club soda to a wonderfully floral and smoky red wine paired with goat cheese and the ever-classy whole grain wheatthins.
*Shout out to you, Nick Rice. Keep running that race.
