We are living in a fog today. And no, I’m not speaking of my usual metaphorical fogs! =D I’m talking about days and days of living in a wet, rainy cloud. You see, when you live on a mountain in the southern United States, you experience weeks’ worth of dense fog during the colder months of the year. The “I-think-I-need-another-cup-of-coffee” kind of fog. The “I-can’t-see-10-feet-in-front-of-me, would-you-kindly-turn-your-fog-lights-on, are-you-crazy-walking-alongside-the-road-like-that-oh-black-jacket-wearer?!”, and “if-I-don’t-see-some-sunshine-soon, I’m-just-going-to-turn-to-mush” kind of fog.
I’m a little bit more affected by the weather than I care to admit. (-sheepish grin-)
In highschool, my best friend and I dubbed the Mountain fog, “romantic mist”. Ah, yes, sweet, innocent girlishness.
Because now I live on this mountain and this “romantic mist” drives me to decorate windows and leave them just-so for months on end:
Or set out fruit like this and literally try to drink in liquid sunshine:
Yes, it’s getting pretty bad over here.
Firefly asks me, “Mama, why isn’t the sun coming out?”
I chuckle at how her little questions mimic my grumbling heart sometimes. She’s sometimes like a mirror, that child of mine.
I speak to both of us that which I know to be true.
“The sun is out, sweetie. We just can’t see it because the clouds are flying all around us. It’s still there and it’ll shine again soon.”
And my metaphorical fogs (of course, I couldn’t *not* write of them) are no different. The clouds are sometimes dense and I wonder if He’s leading and I wonder why He doesn’t “show up” a bit more clearly or when I’d like Him to. What’s that quote? Something about how when we wonder where He is, it is then that He is carrying us?
Not led. No immediate fog-lifting miracles. Carried right through the split of the clouds.
And you know, they say the clouds are what will carry Him back to us.
Yes, I get to live in a cloud.