Sunday was one of those days when everyone had to contend with fog. I was reminded of Carl Sandburg’s poem:
The fog comes
On little cat feet.
It sits looking
Over harbor and city
On silent haunches
And then moves on
The only difference, of course, was that Sunday’s fog did not ‘move on’ very readily. The rest of the poem reminds me that fog is both eerie and enchanting. It is mystical while also being overwhelming.
When I don’t have to drive in fog, I find myself appreciating the way it wraps itself around us in mystery. When we can’t see with perfect precision, we realize there is much beyond our sight.
Sometimes God’s love comes with great clarity. Other times it enfolds itself around us in ways we cannot explain. Even when we can’t see clearly, we must trust that God is present.
“Cloud and darkness surround him;
justice and right are the foundation of his throne.”