Driving into work this morning was not as laid-back as it usually is. The reason for my slight trepidation was due to the fogginess along my route. There were stretches where, between the windshield being coated in condensation, the sunshine streaming down, and the literal fog in front of me, I could not see very well. This naturally caused me some angst and worry, so I slowed down and safely made my way to work despite the hanging mist of unknown surrounding my path ahead.
This made me reflect on when other forms of fog cloud my mind, especially when I am trying to see the path ahead of me in life. I know it’s natural to think about the future at times, whether it be in excited ways or in fearful ways. But it made me wonder how we are supposed to look at the future, the perspective we are supposed to have.
When it was foggy this morning, I drove slower, tried to be safer and more intentional with my choices and actions as I drove ahead, as I forged into the unseen. I don’t know about you, but that is not how I would naturally approach an unknown future. Usually, facing an unknown future will not cause me to slow down as much as it makes me want to speed up! It makes me want to plan ahead and get everything lined up just so, as an attempt to make myself believe I have a surety, an unbreakable security, in what I have compiled and organized. I try to get myself to a place where I can comfort myself with the thought that I’ve got it all figured out, as if that could bring peace to my life. As if I could truly control everything that can or will happen along my life’s journey.
The older we get, the more we realize the futility of such an endeavor. While planning ahead is wise, enabling us to laugh without fear of the future (Proverb 31:25), we can certainly overdo it. We can make our futures into idols, we can rest on an insecure foundation where our hope is merely in ourselves, in our ways and in the plans we have formed. Truly, not much is for certain and I think as we journey farther along the road of life, the more we realize that it is impossible to perfectly map out our entire futures. So much of life is unplanned, including some of the best parts as well as some of the worst parts.
I want to get to a place where, when I see fog ahead, when I know that I can only see a dim outline of what the future could bring, I slow down. I want to be so present in this moment that I am neither fearing the future nor constantly looking forward to what could be at hand. Planning for tomorrow is today’s work, but the worry (or yearning) is another thing entirely. Matthew 6:34 is where Jesus tells us, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” You know what I love most about that? It’s a command. Jesus is telling us not to worry. He is not asking us. I think He knew that He needed to say it as a directive statement because it is so easy, and even intuitive, to ignore that advice. If He had asked, or merely advised, I would have been one of the first to say, “Well that’s a nice notion, but You’re God, remember? Of course You don’t need to worry!” But we don’t have that excuse when it comes to commands. I actually find that Jesus saying this is especially powerful because He was completely aware of what awaited Him at the hands of His fellow man. There came a time for Him to pray about it with great persistence and diligence, but He did not allow His painful fate and purpose for entering this world to keep Him from wholeheartedly focusing on His ministry during His years of human life on earth. He was incredibly immersed and invested in the present, and that is the great example He has set for us.
In “The Screwtape Letters,” C.S. Lewis wrote a series of letters as if they had been written from one demon to another demon. One of the parts that stands out to me is when the demon is telling the other that keeping his client’s mind away from the present is a very desirable thing (for them). Keeping the man focused always on the past is good, but on the future is much better. He advised his fellow demon to keep his client “chasing the rainbow’s end,” never enjoying his gifts and blessings now, but always piling them up for some future time. Always looking forward, but never right around him in the present moment. At what he can enjoy and be thankful for today. At what difference he can make right exactly now. In regard to the way the man considers the future, the demons says that either extreme works in their favor – whether it be tortured fear or stupid confidence. Each extreme has major and negative consequences in our lives. In one case, we are fearful of the fog, daring not to even venture ahead or at least being closed off, begrudging, and sullen during the ride. In the other case, we go foolishly full throttle without even considering what may lie ahead or how we can prepare in wisdom, appreciation, and care. Neither extreme is good for us.
I think the people who understand the balance are able to look at the future with an appreciation for the fog. An appreciation for the unknown and acknowledgment that to our Lord, none of it is unknown. He has already seen it. He is outside of our time. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'” If that’s not a reason to take a deep breath and relax, I don’t know what is.
We can rest in knowing that the Lord has plans for us. Plans for our good. And knowing this will bring us hope for the future. Being consumed by that hope is not the goal, but resting in that truth. Being thankful for the future ahead, even now, no matter what it may look like, because we know Who holds it. Romans 8:28 reminds us that “In all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.”
The Bible assures us that we can recognize the fog ahead and, while taking care and appropriate preparation, we can forge through it without fear. Without the debilitating thought that we will be left alone, hung out to dry, desolate and forsaken. We never will, you know. Someone else has already been in that position so that we don’t ever have to endure it.
When I see the fog ahead, I am going to smile at its beauty, at its mystery, at its ever ungraspable nature. It’s enjoyable to glance at and muse about what lies beyond, but the road right in front of me is where my eyes need to be. I will see that foggy part of the road in due time, but for now it is cloaked in a misty cloud. The colors, shapes, objects, situations, and people around me in this moment are what matter most, where my attention most needs to be.
James 4:13-17, HLC
PS – I waited til it was nearly fog-free to take the included photo (because I, ya know, value my life and all), but you can still see a little fog ahead in it. Not as great a visual but it was so foggy earlier in my commute that I didn’t want to risk stopping in the middle of the road to take a photo!
sacred strokes 