I woke up yesterday morning on Rice Lake near Whitewater, Wisconsin. Just down the hill from the house I knew there was a beautiful lake with a handful of tiny islands dotting the distant shore. I knew the trees on that far side offered a mosaic of greens, yellows, reds and oranges. I knew fish were jumping and that ducks and geese were still coming and going, slowly making their way south. But I knew all those things from memory and faith in the unseen, for a white veil of fog had fallen in the early morning on the world outside the window and I couldn’t see a thing.
My view from the window yesterday is an apt metaphor for our lives of faith, for “we walk by faith and not by sight” as Paul tells us in 2 Corinthians (5:7). How often — perhaps especially when we’re facing difficulties, stress or sickness — do we feel as if we’re cautiously and haltingly trudging through life blinded by a fog of unknowing? There’s no way to go it alone, no way to safely wander and explore, knowing that we might take a tumble down a nearby hill or off a waiting cliff. Our lives of faith don’t call for foolish bravado; they call for childlike trust, holding the hand of the one who calls us by name and leads us into the fog, who knows every nook and cranny of our lives like the back of his hand.
Ask yourself in silence: When was the last time you felt you were walking in a fog? Could you find God’s hand in the midst of the mist?
Today I ask for special prayers for reader Dotty Z’s husband, Joe, who is suffering in multiple ways right now, including cancer and heart disease. God knows who and where he is, so tonight offer up a prayer for peace and healing. Dotty writes: “If someone out there would just say one little prayer, God will walk us through the tough days ahead. We are praying there will be something to help his weak heart. The tests — echo and stress —were not good but I pray there is enough left to have stints or meds to strengthen the muscle. Stay well and let’s all pray for each other every day…”
Dotty Zwicker says
Thank you all out there in Givens land — I am so grateful for any and all prayers going up to the lord for Joe, I know he hears you. Joe suffers so with the awful myeloma pain. As badly as we need your prayers I will share the abundence with two young ladies who work in our rectory one has Lupus and the other has arthritis that has required many, many joint replacements. I offer a prayer today for those who have no one to prayer for them. How sad. Thank you too Steve. How gifted you are.
Kathleen Matson says
My prayers are with you and Joe, Dotty, as well as your friends at the rectory. How I can relate with both of these women. May God bless all of you – all of us! For as Steve wrote so beautifully, when we walk through this foggy life holding on to the hand of the one who sustains us, no matter how difficult it may be to see what is ahead, we will not fall.
I just love this piece Steve. I could feel the mist, as I read this and see the white vapor! And yes, so much like life, we surely can walk around in a fog, unfocused and afraid to step forward without God. Thank you, again!
And yes! We are on!! May the best (?) team win!!
God bless,
Kathleen